


Break the Law for Me

by TealrootsG



Category: My Chemical Romance, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 14:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 73,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18573691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TealrootsG/pseuds/TealrootsG
Summary: Frank is on his last year of high school and fear of failure is really taking a toll. He thinks he's going to have to go through it alone when his friends begin to drift away, but he finds solace in the new art teacher, Mr Way.Gerard dived in to a big career head first and he's starting to regret it when the job is much more stressful than anticipated. However, a certain student always seems to put a smile on his face.[frerard]





	1. Chapter 1

Brendon slammed his hands down on Frank's shoulders, successfully startling the poor boy awake as he slid in to the seat next to him. "Hello, princess." He greeted far too cheerfully for anyone's liking.

In Frank's opinion, it was way too early in the morning for basic manners and human decency. Tugging his sleeves over his hands and folding his arms on the table, Frank didn't bother fighting off the urge to sleep.

Ignoring Frank's obvious protest to communication, Brendon continued anyway because he had no one else in their photography class to talk to. "Guess what I did over the holidays."

"Went to lame parties with even lamer people?" Frank's voice came out muffled, tone laced with disinterest. He didn't want to have to listen to another one of Brendon's one night stands.

An annoyed expression flashed across his features. "No." He scowled, dumping his bag on the table. "For your information, I am now in a steady relationship."

Furrowing his brows, he slowly turned his head, looking sceptically up at his best friend, who had now gained his attention successfully. "Really?"

"Don't be so surprised. It's been known to happen."

"With who? I need witnesses." Frank challenged, leaning back in his seat to stare at the clock above the whiteboard. They were always at least fifteen minutes early to class every day. The main hall was too crowded, so they resided upstairs in the art rooms.

"Oh, you know him." Brendon smirked. "So, guess."

"I'm tired."

"Guess."

"No."

"Fine. I won't tell you." Brendon huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

It was Frank's turn to smirk because he knew he wouldn't be able to stay quiet for long. If Brendon had news, he always shared it.

After a while, a huge sigh escaped Brendon's lips. "It's Ryan."

"That narrows it down." Frank said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Three minutes left until the school day started.

"Ryan, Ryan Ross. How many Ryan's do you know?" Brendon retorted, knowing full well that Frank barely knew anyone in their year yet. To be fair, Frank had only started at the school four months ago.

The bell shrieked, deafening them and properly jolting Frank, who was, for once, thankful for the interruption because he hadn't thought of a snarky comment for a reply.

Almost immediately, students began piling in through the doors to the art rooms, half of them going to room 169b, which was adjoining to their art room, 169a. In the middle of the two art rooms was a divider, which was a small area with two computers in it and a big enough desk for Frank to work on. He hated being in a class full of people he didn't know, so for lessons he got the gist of what they were going to be doing, then hurried off to the middle room where no one could see, hear or speak to him. That was just how he liked it.

Mr Wright entered the classroom after everyone else as he usually did; allowing students to race to get there first. The teacher was almost always late. Regardless, he was most people's favourite teacher as he was laid back in lessons, but could still yell like hell if he wanted to. So far, Frank hadn't witnessed that this year.

-

All through the lesson, Frank nearly kept drifting off. He was isolated in the middle room and had no one to keep him from falling asleep.

-

"School starts way too early." He muttered, walking back over to Brendon from his private hideout, directing his hatred for mornings at his best friend. He slung his bag over his shoulder and stood next to him, throwing his work down on the table.

"But if it started at, like. . . Eleven, it means we wouldn't get to go home until, like, half five." He countered, stuffing his work sheets in to a folder. And because he was so nice, he put away Frank's work too, which the other boy was grateful for.

"I don't care. It's not like I go out with friends after school like you do. It's as if you forget I have no social life." Frank whined, kicking a chair under the desk. "I'd rather get a lie in and go home late."

"Imagine getting detention, though. You wouldn't get home until half six! That means you'd miss food."

"True. But I've never gotten a detention."

"As you oh-so-nicely remind me every time I get one." Brendon deadpanned, glancing at the clock.

The chattering amongst others simmered down as Mr Wright gestured with his hands for them all to stop talking. Reluctantly, Brendon shut his mouth before he could utter another word. "As you all know, the homework is due in tomorrow."

Everyone sighed.

Frank's face dropped, his eyes widening. "Shit." He breathed. He'd completely forgotten about their analysis essay.

Brendon had too. "We'll do it at lunch." He whispered, receiving a nod in response.

[Published 16 April 2019]


	2. Mr Way

Four days in to school after the holidays and Frank already wanted another one. It was too much; they were piling loads of work on top of them in such a short period of time. In addition, his art teacher hadn't even shown up and they'd had substitute teachers, who didn't really give a damn and were happy to waste fifty minutes -in both lessons- doing nothing important.

Despite the part of Frank that wanted to do well this year, he'd liked the fact he'd gotten to draw whatever he wanted while blasting music through headphones.

Already in the art room for his next class, Frank was kind of looking forward to another art lesson where he could sit in his own little bubble again. There'd been no one around as usual, so he'd eaten lunch in the art department, alone. As usual.

Wandering in to the middle room, he dumped his bag on the floor, scattered his stationery on the desk and got a playlist ready on his phone. He shoved the device in his pocket, then went back in to 169a to gather his artwork from his folder when he stopped dead in his tracks. Apparently someone had teleported in because they weren't there a minute ago.

Taking a deep breath, Frank just slowly edged over to the shelf where the folders were stored and got his own, careful not to make a noise. Successfully grabbing his work, Frank scurried out, but was inevitably stopped.

"Excuse me?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, a defeated sigh escaped his lips and he pivoted on his heel, flashing his best fake smile. "Yes?"

The man that stood there seemed tense, though he tried to cover it up with a nervous smile. Shaking slightly, he tucked his unruly curls behind his ear, but they just fell back in to those hazel eyes.

Before properly introducing himself, he sorted the papers on the desk and adjusted his tie, which remained crooked anyway. The top buttons of his white shirt were undone.

Clearing his throat, he asked, "Are you in this art class next?"

Frank nodded, hugging his folder to his chest. His eyes darted to the floor, but they couldn't help steal a glance every time the man broke his gaze.

"That's great." He beamed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, which complimented the loose denim jacket he sported perfectly. "I'm Mr Way, your new art teacher."

Frank returned the anxious smile, biting his lip. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he shuffled on the spot; not too great at meeting new people. When he finally gathered the courage to actually look at him, he noticed the roots of his hair were dyed a teal colour. Maybe it was intentional, or a mistake, either way, Frank thought it suited him weirdly.

"Hi." Frank managed awkwardly, feeling as though he should shake his hand, but refrained in case it was too formal. "I'm Frank. . . Iero."

Mr Way glanced to where Frank was headed, tilting his head to the side a little. "Do you usually work in there for these lessons?"

"Yeah." A pang of anxiety tugged at his heart strings. "My last teacher let me. Am-am I not allowed-?"

"Oh, no, don't worry." Mr Way waved a hand dismissively. "I won't force you to work with the others if that's what you're used to. . . But I'm afraid I will need you to come in here while I explain your assignment for this year."

Letting out a huge breath of relief, Frank nodded once in understanding. "Okay, thank you." His shoulders slouched as he calmed down.

The bell screamed above their heads, causing them both to jump.

Reality suddenly dawned on Mr Way, a fearful expression taking control of his delicate features. "This is my first time teaching. Ever. Do you-do you think I'll do well? Is this a chaotic class?" Taking deep, steady breaths, he shot a fearful glance at Frank, who hoped he was smiling reassuringly.

Frank shrugged, "I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Thank you." Mr Way's voice wavered and he clasped his hands together behind his back to stop himself from fidgeting.

A few moments later, a stampede of footsteps shook the floor, meaning twenty-or-so students were about to flood in to the classroom.

Chewing his lip, Frank quickly hurried to a seat and kept a hold of his folder. Mr Way retreated to stand behind the desk, as close to the wall as he could to distance himself from the teenagers.

Brendon waltzed in, caught sight of Mr Way, then slumped in a seat next to Frank at the back of the class. Raising his eyebrows, he nodded in Mr Way's general direction, careful not to stare. "Who's he?" He quizzed curiously, poking Frank's arm until he answered.

"New teacher." Frank replied, batting Brendon's hand away.

Heat found its way to Mr Way's cheeks, painting them a faint red. Wide eyed, he scanned the students. Most of their gazes were settled on him, others were chattering amongst themselves. Thankfully, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Mr Wright walk in and he was relieved he didn't have to go through the first bit himself. He knew he would have freaked and made a right mess of it.

Mr Wright nodded to him, then turned to the class and watched as the students quietened down. "I doubt you all know, but Mrs Barkley won't be returning this year-"

Rudely, a student interrupted him, their eyebrows raised expectantly. "Why?"

"I'm sure that's none of your concern." Mr Wright quipped, silencing the student, who shrank back in their seat, knowing it was sensible not to push any further when it came to badgering this particular teacher. "So, for this year, Mr Way," he paused, gesturing, "Will be teaching your class. Now, I expect you all to behave. Those who don't will hear about it from me. I'm only next door, remember?"

Mr Way surveyed the room; biting his lip. There were so many curious eyes trained on him, so it stood out when Frank had his eyes averted to the floor as his leg bounced impatiently. He was eager to escape.

While Mr Wright explained the general rules and situation, Mr Way tried to catch Frank's gaze. Though it took a long time, finally their eyes met and a smile tugged at his lips as he nodded towards the middle room. He would hate for Frank to feel any worse than he seemed to, so he granted him permission to slip next door.

Fortunately, Frank understood the message. Slowly rising to his feet, he felt his cheeks burn as he prayed no one would call him out. He managed to make it safely, a huge weight lifting off his chest.

Leaning against the back of the door, he closed it before collapsing in to a chair. Gradually, the pounding in his heart died. Despite the fact his legs weren't steady, he began shuffling around the table, gathering and sorting his things, separating his own sketches so the work he'd be doing this year wouldn't get mixed up with it.

-

Fifteen minutes stretched past and Frank was surprised that it was strangely quiet. Though he wasn't going to complain.

The door clicked and Mr Way entered, appearing timid. Cautiously, he offered a consoling expression. The denim jacket he'd been wearing had been discarded in the other room and the sleeves of his slightly baggy shirt were rolled up just above his elbows, the bottom tucked in to his jeans.

"Thank you." Frank blurted out, truly grateful. Anyone else probably would have left him to fret at the back of the class until he'd bitten his fingernails to the bone. He simply hated sitting amongst the other students. His experiences of the people at this school hadn't been good ones.

"Are you okay?" Mr Way asked, shutting the door as he brought a binder in to view, clutching it tightly, knuckles turning white. Unsurely, he approached, sitting beside Frank, sliding the binder on to the table. He was a lot less on edge compared to speaking to twenty students, so he let himself unwind a little.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just don't like being in there." He breathed, no desire to dig in to details. Mostly, he wanted to apologise about putting the teacher at odds, but he couldn't get the word out. Having to go through explaining the year's objectives twice took out extra time he could have been discussing it more with the whole class. Frank started to feel guilty, like an annoyance.

Mr Way smiled empathetically. "I know what you mean. It's okay, really." He seemed genuine. "Now. . ." He opened the binder, sifting through the pages until he came across the Higher Art Assignment. "There're two choices for this year." He cleared his throat, sweeping strands of hair behind his ear.

Hesitantly, Frank scooted closer so he could read what was on the page too -hoping he wasn't invading Mr Way's personal space bubble. To make sure, he paused, seeing if the teacher might move away, but he didn't so Frank eased up a bit.

"You can either explore architecture." Glancing up at Frank, he paused.

Shaking his head, Frank took his bottom lip between his teeth, running his tongue over the cold metal of his lip ring. "What's the other one? Because I don't really think I'm gonna do that."

"Portraiture." Mr Way replied, reading aloud, "You'd be studying facial expressions in-depth, likeness, caricature, age and weight and at the end, you'd put what you've learnt altogether in to one final piece."

"Sounds rad. I'll do that."

"Though, you will need a model. You have to be able to take the pictures you'd be studying yourself."

At that, Frank scrunched his nose, gripping the edge of his chair as he laughed quietly. "I'm pretty sure Brendon won't mind modelling for me." Furrowing his eyebrows, he frowned. "That came out weird, but y-you know what I mean?"

As Mr Way joined in the awkward laughter, his head tilted to the side and his eyes lit up -Frank couldn't help but notice. "I'll bring you in the criteria and some paper, okay? We can start with the pictures next lesson. Talk to Brendon about it, too?"

"Y-yeah, thank you."

-

Creeping in at the end of the lesson, Brendon slung his bag over his shoulder and leaned back against the wall, crossing one leg over the other. He was about to speak when Frank beat him to it.

"How's the new teacher?" He asked as he packed his things away, getting ready for when the bell went for next lesson, but he put a minimum amount of effort in to it because he wasn't a big fan of English.

"He's awesome." Brendon answered straight away, not even batting an eyelid. He fidgeted with the strap of his bag. "I think he nailed his first impression."

"That good, huh?" Frank pulled the zip, pushing the chair under the table when he stood up.

"Yeah, most of the girls were swooning all over him the entire time. Seriously, they couldn't have been more obvious." Brendon rolled his eyes, used to such behaviour from a few of them. "Anyway, hurry up, the bell's gonna go."

Securing his work in his folder, Frank yanked the door open, holding it as Brendon followed. He kept his eyes focused on the floor as he darted over to the shelf with his folder in hand, the bell ringing above him. Sadly, he didn't have any free hands to cover his poor ears.

A herd of students pushed their way past him and he was utterly relieved when he made it to the back of the classroom in one piece. He dumped his folder on the shelf, then turned around, glancing at Mr Way, who was already looking at him, making brief eye contact.

Mr Way smiled, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. "Frank? Can you stay behind for a moment?" He requested, shrugging the denim over his shoulders, tugging the collar up.

Frank nodded, then peered at Brendon, who looked as puzzled as he was. "You in trouble?" Brendon whispered. "I can stay if you like?"

"It's okay," Frank dismissed. They both said silent goodbyes, Brendon disappearing down the hall, getting lost in the sea of students.

Mr Way snatched his satchel from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder. "I've been told by Mr Wright that you're new here, too?"

"I've been here four months." He confirmed, stepping a bit closer so he wasn't on the total opposite side of the room.

Mr Way hopped up on to the desk, swinging his legs like a child. "Well," his hazel orbs caught Frank's, "I've also been told that it would be best for your grade if you did last year's work too. . . As well as this year's."

"Oh. . ." The floor suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world to Frank and he scuffed his shoe. "Right."

"Would it be okay if you came in after school tonight so I could explain further?" Mr Way asked, giving Frank a half smile.

"Yeah." He mumbled, disappointed that he had yet more work to complete. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he fought the urge to yawn. Making his way across the floor, he called over his shoulder. "See you later."

"See you."

[Published 24 April 2019]  
[Last edited 13 December 2019]


	3. Chapter 3

The last fifty minutes of the day, English, had been more bearable than the previous six. At least their teacher, Miss Wells, had allowed them to listen to music while they studied.

Now, he dragged his feet along the floor as he trailed back to art, kind of annoyed that he had to spend any extra time in the building. He yanked open the doors to the art rooms, walking in to 169a.

Mr Way was fixated on papers at his desk, a hand raked through his hair to keep it from his face and the other was furiously scribbling across the page, threatening to tear a hole in it.

"Hi," Frank greeted, slipping his bag off his shoulder and throwing it under a table. He noted the teacher's demeanour. "Stressful first day?"

Mr Way's head snapped up, his eyes piercing through Frank until his expression softened and a small smile appeared on his face. "Yeah, I had a hectic photography class."

"At least you survived." Frank joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood. He looked down. "I thought you were only taking our class? You have two?"

"Three, actually." Mr Way breathed, setting the pen down and sorting the papers back in to a plastic wallet. "Your class, another art class and a photography class."

"That's a lot." Frank commented, wondering how he was taking it all on in his first time teaching.

"Yeah, I feel so stupid for doing it." He rubbed his eyes, covering his face with his hands. "It is way too much right now, but I need the money. I'm-" He stopped, folding his arms on the desk. "Sorry, you don't care. I'll get you what you need."

"Thanks." Frank nodded, then sat down, staring at his hands. "What is it that I'm doing?"

Mr Way scratched the back of his neck, cocking his head to the side. "Well, as for last year's, you're gonna be studying 'still life'." He sighed, wandering over to the drawers near the windows and beginning to search through them for A3 cartridge paper. "Trust me; it's as fun as it sounds."

Letting out a deep breath, his chest sank and he could already feel the boredom and dread clawing at his mind. "Thought so."

"First, you're going to have to take pictures of objects that'll be included in your final piece, these will go on the first sheet." He spread the paper out on the table. "For the second sheet, you'll have to fill it with compositions, using mixed media. Finally, for the third sheet, it's putting together what you've learnt in to a final piece."

"Okay. . ." Frank blew a few strands of hair from his face as Mr Way placed his hands on the edge of the table, leaning forwards a little. "What sort of things do I have to take pictures of?"

"Anything from the shelf, really. So stuff like cups, cutlery, different foods, plates. . . You know?" Mr Way raised an eyebrow at Frank's totally phased out expression. "I told you this was going to be fun."

Restraining a yawn, Frank laughed quietly. "Too right." He went over in his head what he had to do. "Am I using one of the school cameras for photos?"

Mr Way nodded.

"Where am I gonna get the food from? Shall I bring stuff in?"

Standing up straight, he shook his head. "Believe it or not, Mr Wright said there's a box from last year."

"Of old food? Old mouldy food?" Pushing his chair out, Frank stood and followed Mr Way in 169b.

"Apparently."

Luckily, when they walked in, they were the only ones there. Not a teacher or fellow student in sight. They began taking boxes off the shelves and sorting through various objects for Frank to photograph for 'still life'. Honestly, while they were rummaging through old boxes, Frank was disappointed that there wasn't a more exciting project for him to work on, although he didn't mind too much. The more he thought about it, he rather would have been there with Mr Way than go home to an empty house.

When they'd gathered enough things and Mr Way had dug out the correct boxes, they started arranging the rock hard food (that were only stale) in to random compositions and Frank snapped pictures, which they then uploaded through a USB cable on to Mr Way's computer and he printed them out in colour.

"Hey, Frank?" Mr Way called as Frank collected the sheets from the printer in the middle room.

"Yeah?" His head popped out of the door frame, followed by the rest of him as he shuffled back in the room.

Mr Way's gaze flicked to the clock on the wall. "It's quarter to five, I should get going."

"Oh," Frank frowned, "Me too, I guess." His mood plummeted even more when he noticed the pattering of rain on the roof and he looked out of the window to see it pouring down, the sky a gloomy grey. "That's gonna be great walking home." He deadpanned, a deep sigh escaping his chapped lips. He took his lip ring between his teeth as he returned to his bag to pack away.

Grabbing a new folder (fancier and more secure than the ones usually used in lessons), Mr Way parked it on the table, to which Frank glanced up and smiled, "Thanks."

Once he'd tidied everything away, he turned around to face Mr Way, who had his eyes glued to his phone, typing away furiously. Hesitantly, Frank opened his mouth to speak, deciding it wasn't inappropriate to talk casually with a teacher. "What's up?"

After a long moment of silence, he wasn't sure he'd been heard, but Mr Way's lips slowly parted as he conjured up an answer, only half listening. "Oh," he looked up, shoving his phone in to the back pocket of his jeans, "Nothing. I'm just late meeting someone."

"Sorry." A frown tugged at the corner of his lips and he felt a gush of guilt wash over him.

Though it was soon vanquished. "Don't worry; it's not your fault." Mr Way smiled faintly, snatching his satchel and slinging it over his shoulder. He and Frank joined at the door, venturing the hallways and descending the stairs together in a comfortable silence.

Frank almost grinned to himself. Perhaps staying in after school wasn't going to be so bad, however he was not looking forward to running home in the rain. He was going to be soaked.

Soon enough, they parted ways on a friendly goodbye, Mr Way speed walking to his car and Frank beginning to dash home, inconveniently splashing in every puddle he passed.

[Published 26 April 2019]  
[Last edited 13 December 2019]


	4. Chapter 4

Frank had become his own contradiction. Despite the fact he constantly complained about school starting too early, this morning he'd entered the school building at ten past eight and rushed upstairs to the art rooms. It was deserted in the mornings; Frank was delighted to see because it meant he could avoid other people before actual lessons started.

Though he'd had to sacrifice sleep in order to achieve getting to school while hardly anyone was there and he was not happy about that.

When Frank opened the doors, he discovered not even Mr Wright was in yet. Glancing in to 169a, he found Mr Way wasn't in either, then retreated to the middle room where he dumped his bag on the table, dug out his headphones and hooked them around his neck.

The plastic was cool on his skin and he shivered, nearly bumping in to the door frame when he left to fetch his art work. Just as he turned around to head back, Mr Way walked through the door, head down and brows furrowed in thought.

Surprised, Frank jumped back. "You're early."

The sound of Frank's voice startled him, though he managed a half smile when their eyes met. "So are you."

Scratching the back of his neck, Frank shuffled on the spot, averting his gaze. "Y-yeah, I thought I'd start on my art." He explained. "You?"

"Oh," he waved a hand dismissively, hanging his bag on the back of the chair, "There's not much of a reason."

Frank would have believed that lie, if Mr Way's voice hadn't wavered. Shrugging his shoulders, he wandered back into the middle room and stayed there, sketching the outline of his first drawing of an apple - _really exciting_.

Due to the loud music blasting through his headphones, he hadn't heard the bell ring for first lesson. Mr Way had noticed the lack of movement, so he'd had to tell Frank, who then rushed about frantically. In the haze, he forgot to take his phone.

-

He'd breezed through the day, tackling the subjects and working independently with a bit of input from Mr Way in art, however, when he got to last lesson, PE, his body rejected the activity completely and he struggled to keep running around the track in the freezing cold.

Thanks to the miserable weather, his hair was soaked, stuck in mats to his face. Additionally, the rain drenched his clothes, making them terribly uncomfortable to wear, and his vision had become compromised. Overall, he thought it shouldn't be allowed for rotten PE teachers to force them to go outside in the pouring rain.

At least he wasn't alone, though. Brendon shared the same amount of fitness and they'd jogged pathetically behind the others -apart from the ditzy girls who had refused to run, so instead were strolling along with their coats held over their heads like limp umbrellas.

Eventually, the two slowed to a walk and Brendon leaned on Frank for support, but was shoved off, the latter barely able to keep himself upright.

"Hey, come on." Brendon whined, reaching out towards him, stumbling over his own feet. Normally, his hair would spike up in a quiff, but due to the torture they were suffering through, it was flopping over his eyes like a mop.

"No, come on to you. I don't want to look totally unfit to everyone." Frank pushed on ahead, leaving his best friend to trudge along with a stitch in his side.

Honestly, Frank usually enjoyed going out for walks –but in his own time where he couldn't be judged by other people. Plus, he usually ventured around the forest and lake with his camera to take pictures. Running aimlessly in PE was very different to that.

Finally, half three arrived and without hesitation Frank raced to the entrance to the PE department, fortunately getting there before anyone else and yanked the doors open, rushing to the changing rooms. With how self-conscious he was, Frank normally got changed in the toilets where no one could see him. It wasn't like he had anything particularly wrong with his body, he just hated the judgement they'd send his way regardless.

After failing to properly dry himself off and throwing his clothes on haphazardly, he stepped out of the toilets with his t-shirt crumpled, belt unbuckled, shoes untied, hair tangled and his bag was hanging off his arm.

Luckily, due to his earliness, he'd gotten ready ahead of everyone else, meaning Frank had the opportunity to go upstairs to art and sort himself out.

To avoid the students swarming out of the main reception doors for the end of the day, he took the side stairs, successfully finding the classroom empty. Well, Mr Way was sat at his desk, shocked by Frank's sudden burst in to the classroom.

"Hi, sir." Frank smiled, ignoring the fact he was dishevelled.

Though Mr Way didn't. "Rough day?" He chuckled, tilting his head to the side a little, shamelessly enjoying Frank's flustered state.

"Yeah." Frank breathed, chucking his bag on a table and starting to straighten himself out. When he looked presentable, he discretely turned to the mirrors that were propped against the wall and patted his hair down, combing his fingers through the tangles.

"You sure you're up for another hour-or-so in this place?"

Frank whipped around at the sound of his voice, letting out a cross between a deep breath and a laugh. "I think so."

"What hell did you go through to come out looking like that?" Mr Way's tone showed a hint of concern, worried Frank might have been chased down and beaten up.

"PE." He groaned, rolling his eyes to the moon and back. "I hate PE so much, you have no idea."

"Oh, yes, I do. I hated it, too. Still do." Mr Way nodded, adjusting the collar of his denim jacket. He got out Frank's artwork for him, then dug out a laptop from his satchel and sat down with it on one of the tables nearest to Frank, who wasn't sure people were allowed to sit on the tables. "Maybe, I'll ask the PE teacher if you can spend those lessons up here instead. . . If you want to."

"Really?" Frank beamed, sliding his jacket off his shoulders, suddenly feeling the impact of the heat from the unwanted exercise. Taking a deep breath, he raked his hair out of his eyes. "That'd be awesome."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Mr Way's lips. "Also," he added, "For future reference, please don't call me 'sir'. It makes me feel old."

"Alright," Frank grinned, "If you tell me how old you really are."

Raising an eyebrow, Mr Way cocked his head, chewing on his lip as he narrowed his eyes. "That's what it'll take, huh?"

"That's all." Frank fiddled with his lip ring between his teeth, interlocking his fingers and propping his elbows on the table to rest his chin on. The cheeky expression currently plastered across his face was enough to make anyone want to punch if off permanently.

A long silence stretched over them. Mr Way abandoned the work on his laptop completely, eyes still locked with Frank's. For a second, Frank considered taking it back, obviously there was going to be no answer given, but Mr Way spoke up just as Frank was about to.

"If you simply must know, I'm twenty years old."

" _Twenty_?" Frank nearly choked on thin air. He couldn't believe someone so young was doing a job so time consuming. "That's young for a teacher."

"Thank you?"

Sitting back in his chair, Frank stared at his hands. "So. . . What's your name, then, _sir_?"

Rolling his eyes, he sighed deeply, "Gerard. My name's Gerard Way."

"Gerard." He tested. "That's weird. . . Calling you Gerard, I mean. Not your name. Your name's not weird." As his boost of confidence slowly slipped away, Frank's habit of becoming a rambling mess shone through.

Mr Way –Gerard– just smiled. "I know what you mean; don't worry." Setting his laptop down, he walked to his desk, unlocking the bottom drawer and retrieving a device, which he then held out to Frank, who squinted at it.

"Is that my phone?"

"You left it here this morning."

As Frank reached up to take it, his fingers brushed against Gerard's and he awkwardly pulled back, resulting in almost dropping his phone.

"You okay?" Gerard asked, watching as Frank made a fool of himself by eventually letting the device slip from his hands. To further add to his embarrassment, as he crouched down to fetch it, he accidentally banged his head on the table when he tried to stand back up.

"I'm fine." Frank mumbled, rubbing his head. "Just stupid."

"I can see that." Gerard teased, putting a hand to his mouth as he refrained from laughing.

Silently, Frank glowered, not breaking their severe eye contact.

"I'm sorry. But you'd laugh if it was me."

Admitting defeat, he shrugged. "True." Frank turned his attention to the art on the table. He had so much to do this year and he despised it.

For the following hour, they were both engulfed in their own work, too absorbed to notice the cleaners come in to sweep the floors and wipe down the tables. One of them had to almost push Gerard off the table so they could get to it. Of course, he'd been anxious that he'd upset them and they thought he was being rude. Frank had had to reassure him they didn't when they left.

Now, it told quarter past five on the clock. Frank's eyes were starting to blur due to his intense concentration and had to blink a few times to focus on things again. The same effect had taken place on Gerard's eyes -a headache paired as a bonus.

Surprise washed over Frank when he realised the time. "Well, shit." He muttered, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows.

Gazing at Frank through his lashes and strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes, Gerard spoke up. "Are you late for something? Have I kept you behind for too long?"

"No, no, it's okay." Frank shook his head. "I like being here. It's just that I didn't know it was that late." He confessed with a short laugh.

"You're right. It's a Friday too." Gerard bit his lip, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologise." Frank said, raking his fingers through his hair. He packed everything away, taking a little longer so he and Gerard were ready at the same time.

"What have you got planned this weekend?" He adjusted the cuffs and collar of his denim jacket, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and logging off the school computer.

"Not much. I don't really do big plans at the weekend. I'll probably just watch TV and draw, to be honest." Frank joked seriously, hoping he didn't come off as a total bore.

"My kind of weekend."

"What about you?"

Gerard went quiet, looking down at his hands so his fringe hid most of his face again. "I don't know. My. . . Partner is finally moving in with me, so that's great."

"Rad." Frank smiled warmly, holding the doors open. A blush crept up on to Gerard's cheeks when he noticed how he was acting -like a proper gentleman.

"Thank you."

They exited and walked the halls together, parting ways at the car park.

[Published 30 April 2019]  
[Last edited 15 December 2019]


	5. Chapter 5

As usual, like clockwork, Frank woke up early, trudging in to school in the early hours of the morning. It had become a routine over the past few weeks. The only problem was that he was so tired everyday. It didn't help that he normally fell asleep around one o'clock in the morning. In his defence, it wasn't his fault that they'd made TV programmes to be so addicting that he just had to stay up all night binge watching it.

Regardless the exhaustion, he entered the classroom, though this time, Gerard had beaten Frank to it. He was there first. It startled Frank and he stopped in his tracks, stepping back silently.

It seemed Gerard hadn't noticed Frank was stood there, and under his breath, he continued to sing.

A smile plastered itself across Frank's face because he recognised the song. If he was correct, Gerard was singing That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore by The Smiths -one of his favourite bands.

Even though his voice was barely audible, Frank could hear the raw emotion he put in to it.

To make his presence known, Frank cleared his throat. But he didn't want to; he wanted to listen.

However, to his delight, Gerard didn't acknowledge it. The pencil scratched across the page he was scribbling on, slightly muffling the sound of his singing. With his other hand his fingers were threaded through his hair, fingertips only just reaching the teal roots. A frown was clear and Frank supposed he was exhausted too.

Reluctantly, he tried again. "Hi."

This time, Gerard immediately quit singing, lips parted as he shot a weak glare at Frank, who shuffled back a bit, worried he'd be a disturbance. But Gerard's scowl quickly morphed in to an apologetic gaze. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Frank offered a smile, brushing it off. He discarded his bag, gathered the supplies he needed, then set it all up on a table closest to the teacher's desk. Hesitantly, when Gerard didn't speak first, he added in a murmur, "I like your singing."

"You heard?" Gerard bit his lip, glancing at Frank as he drummed his fingers anxiously. Memories flooded back to him, and he was nervous Frank would react the same way they had. No one had ever liked his singing -as far as he was aware.

"Don't worry; you're very good at it."

"Really?" He grinned, unable to keep a straight face because hearing that cheered him up considerably.

"Really." Frank paused; looking down for a moment, then back up in to Gerard's eyes, which were cast to the side. "Hasn't anyone told you that before?"

"Uhm," Gerard took a deep breath, "No."

"Well, I'm telling you now."

"Thank you." Gerard grinned shyly, turning his attention back to his sketch as he ran his fingers through his hair to push it back from his face.

Even though Gerard was looking down, Frank sneaked a glance at him with a small smile on his face –that was until he noticed a faint bruise by Gerard's temple. It was a swirl of yellow, blue and purple that was hidden mostly by his hair, but a part of it trailed to the corner of his eye before it faded.

Honestly, Frank was really curious and wanted to poke the problem with a stick. However, he refrained because it would be a huge invasion of Gerard's privacy -no matter the cause. For all he knew, Gerard could have banged his head like Frank had.

Sighing deeply, Frank just sat and stared.

Eventually, Gerard caught on and raised his head, furrowing his brows at Frank, who had his head resting in his hand, staring seemingly blankly at him. It was freaking him out.

"Frank?" Gerard waved a hand to grab his attention.

Snapping back to reality, Frank blinked, shaking his head. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you okay?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, just tired." He lied, almost yawning for effect.

"Late night?"

Frank laughed dryly. "I was literally just watching TV. It's not like I was partying."

"That not your kind of thing?" Gerard asked, beginning to prepare the work for the students he had first lesson.

Frank shook his head.

"Me neither. I hate loud music."

A smile tugged at Frank's lips. "Me too."

-

Luckily after that riot of a class, Gerard had a pretty straight forward day. He'd survived a double lesson with obnoxious teenagers that had acted like they knew everything already. Next, he'd planned future tests during the lessons he was free. Though another teacher had had a class next door and he'd had to endure all of the noise and chatter, disrupting his concentration. In addition, Mr Wright had been badgering him on and off too.

Due to lack of motivation, Gerard had just ended up glaring at the computer screen for one hundred minutes, fingers threaded through his hair with his fingernails digging in to his scalp.

Suddenly, the bell rang, assaulting Gerard's ears, and students flooded out of 169b for lunch. Just as they exited, Frank entered.

"Hey." Frank dumped his bag.

"Hiya." Gerard couldn't even muster up the energy to answer him properly. He just felt so drained. Today was an _unnecessarily bad_ day.

Frank noticed. "What's up?" He said a little quieter, caught in the middle of staying put and going over to comfort him. Gerard was his teacher, so because of that fact, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, deciding to sit on the edge of a table.

Sighing, Gerard rubbed his eyes, then scratched his fingers through his hair and pushed it back as he looked over at Frank, who offered a small smile. Reluctantly, Gerard returned it, having needed it. "Just. . . It's one of those days, you know?"

Even though he sort of didn't, he nodded anyway to avoid awkwardness. Chewing on his lip ring, Frank gathered shading pencils, picked up his bag and moved in to the middle room to be ready when the lesson started. To his delight, he had art next. For now, because he still had forty minutes of lunch time to waste, he grabbed his food and wandered back through to 169a.

Gerard had his head on the desk, eyes closed, but he still heard Frank's footsteps. He lifted his head, looking at him wearily. "How's your day been?" He picked up his attitude, folding his arms on the desk.

"Alright." Frank shrugged. "I had photography and game development, but maths sucked." He paused for a moment, taking a bite of the oat bar he'd packed. "What about you?"

Gerard groaned, rolling his eyes. "I had to teach art to a bunch of stubborn teenagers. They had to do the subject as part of the curriculum, so most of them obviously didn't want to be there."

"That sucks." He finished the bar, suddenly remembering the news he had. "Oh, I've edited the pictures of Brendon; I just need to print them out. I forgot to say."

"Good, because your main assignment is on kind of a stand still." Gerard frowned, gesturing for Frank to join him. He logged off the computer and Frank logged on, finding the files and then clicking on 'print', using the staff printer instead of the student's one –the difference was it printed in colour.

Frank collected the sheets, grinning at how beautiful they were. Brendon had gone all out in makeup, a shirt, tie and waistcoat with jeans for their ' _very professional_ ' photoshoot. There were also other photos for studying facial expressions. Frank flicked through them, coming to the one at the back and his face fell at the amount of emotion it conveyed.

"I like that one most." Gerard pointed to it, admiring Brendon's confidence.

"Me too." He agreed, deciding to draw it first. He printed another copy, gridded it, then copied the grid on to cartridge paper and began sketching.

"What medium are you going to do it in?" Gerard questioned, taking a seat opposite Frank as he marked essays from his other classes. A frown of concentration pursed his lips and his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth a little, causing Frank to chuckle quietly to himself.

It dawned on him that he hadn't answered yet. "Uhm, ballpoint pen." He stuttered, brushing hair from his eyes. It was getting down to his shoulders, but he somewhat liked it long. He could hide behind it.

"That might be difficult. Can you handle it?" Gerard glanced up through his lashes, a hint of a smirk gracing his lips.

"It's actually fun to do." Frank felt quite smug because he could shade in pen and capture more tones -as hard as that sounded. Noticing the look Gerard was sending his way, he felt his cheeks heat up, sure he was probably going bright red. But Gerard hastily lowered his gaze and the weird moment was over.

-

Soon enough, the bell rang and Frank gathered the photographs, travelling in to the middle room for the next two lessons of art. He listened to the pounding footsteps of the students as they came bounding in, hyper from lunch. They always came in energized and Frank was almost positive they snorted cocaine to boost their energy. Gerard was going to have one hell of a problem controlling them.

To Frank's surprise, Brendon wandered in, chucking his bags on the floor as he kicked the door shut.

"What're you doing here?" Frank asked, glad to see him. At least he wasn't going to be alone this lesson.

"Mr Way said I could come through here. Makes a change." He shrugged, setting up opposite Frank. "Oh, it's me." He grinned excitedly, snatching a few photos before Frank could whine about it. "You didn't tell me you'd printed these." Brendon examined them, having not seen the final photos yet. He was proud of them to some extent. "These will greatly improve your presentation." He smirked and Frank rolled his eyes.

"Ha, ha." He deadpanned, carefully taking the photos back and sliding them in to a plastic wallet.

"Seriously, though," Brendon raised his eyebrows, "They're really good."

"Is that a compliment to me, or a boast?"

" _A compliment_." He smiled. "Your photography skills are pretty awesome." He received a shy grin from Frank, who had turned bright red -he both hated and loved compliments, but he never knew how to take them.

[Published 6 May 2019]  
[Last edited 15 December 2019]


	6. Chapter 6

Soon enough, the weeks flew by. Frank was getting on considerably with his extra work consisting of drawing food and various compositions of food. It was tedious, really, and Frank would much rather have been working on his portraiture after school instead. It was so much more interesting and intricate to draw.

Gerard had aided him when needed and stayed back with him after school. Having him around for company made staying behind that bit more bearable. Plus, occasionally, he'd bring in biscuits and store them in the back of a drawer -only Frank knew about them. It was simple, but it made him feel special in a way.

However, to Frank's disappointment, Brendon had begun to drift away. They talked less frequently; Brendon barely answered the video chats, which had become a sort of ritual because they used to chat over video in the evenings.

It was little things like that that Frank missed.

As a lousy addition, his parents were engulfed by their work twenty-four-seven. As a result, their big empty house was a mansion haunted by ghosts. Everything had become twice as frightening and each shadow loomed like a person.

On the bright side, he had Gerard. Those nights after school grew longer until he and Gerard were staying in until quarter past six and the sky would be pitch black. That made walking home a horror show, but it was worth it for some company so he didn't feel totally isolated from the human race.

-

"Ooh, Mr Way!"

Whistles and a few sniggers erupted throughout the classroom like waves washing up on the shore. Though in this case it was during a storm and Gerard wanted to run away from it, not stand with his feet in the water.

He was aware he was late. He was aware his hair was the definition of messy. He was aware he was wearing an old t-shirt, ripped jeans and scuffed up boots. In his defence, his washing machine had broken and he'd had no way to wash his usual shirt and waistcoat. Plus, his house was currently a disaster.

In addition, he'd woken up late and was forced to throw on whatever was closest to him on the floor. Time had been ticking like a bomb and he hadn't had time to put thought in to a substitute for his usual attire.

In the rush of it all, Gerard hadn't registered just how dishevelled he looked. His hair was a mass of black and teal tangles, his t-shirt was partly tucked in to his jeans, which were hanging dangerously low on his hips and there were dark smudges under his eyes where his eyeliner had smudged. If anyone was to search the word 'chaotic' in the dictionary, a picture of Gerard's current state would be there.

However, he somehow suited it. A few of the students had their eyebrows raised in surprise and others were grinning like they'd just won a prize.

Eventually, their chatter faded to hushed, confused whispers and Gerard slouched in his chair, rubbing his eyes as he leaned his elbows on the desk. He was absolutely shattered and in no mood to teach. Luckily he only had to survive two more days before the weekend.

"Sir?" A student raised their hand. "I don't think that's teacher's dress code."

Sighing deeply, Gerard glanced at them through the hair over his eyes. "I know. I was in a rush."

" _Clearly_." They snorted, receiving a brief glare from Gerard.

That student's comment brought up numerous others.

 _"I like Morrissey too!"_ Someone beamed, referring to his threadbare t-shirt.

_"What happened?"_

_"Are you okay?"_

_"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"_

_"Who dragged you through a bush backwards?"_

Everyone began to talk over one another, until half of the double lesson was wasted.

A headache pounded, stinging his eyes as they turned a faint red. Gerard scratched his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Impatience grabbed a hold and his hands shook as he cracked.

"Enough!" He finally shouted, on the verge of screaming.

Immediately, they all shut their mouths, eyes wide in fear of what he was going to do. Instead of leaving like he wished, Gerard composed himself, explained the day's lesson as calmly as he could and got them to carry on with their assignment. For the rest of the hour it was silent -spare the occasional whisper- and he spent the time trying to tidy himself up, though it barely made a difference. His exhausted eyes were still ringed with faded black and his hair remained a knotted mess, constantly falling in to his eyes.

-

Frank made his way to sixth period, art, dodging students and darting straight for the middle room. When he was in, he slammed the door shut, breathing rapid as he tried to settle down. Changing rooms between lessons was always terrifying because of the amount of people walking those crowded halls. It was awful.

Ten minutes in and Frank had already gotten out his things and continued shading in the eyes of a sketch in progress. This one was particularly difficult because he had to draw tears, which were impossible to get right.

Twenty minutes in to the lesson and he heard the door click, revealing a weary teacher. Frank glanced up, the smile wiped off his face when he saw the state Gerard was in.

"Are you okay?" He blurted out, accidentally letting the pencil slip from his grip. Hastily, he picked it up, then shuffled in his chair, not able to tear his concerned gaze away from the person who was slowly becoming his only friend.

"I've been better." Gerard smiled weakly with a shrug of his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around his waist. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Scratching his collarbone red, he took a seat opposite Frank, observing the sketches he'd done.

"You want the truth?" Frank chuckled and Gerard nodded. "You look a wreck."

Narrowing his eyes playfully, Gerard breathed deeply through his teeth. "Thanks."

Hesitantly, he cautiously asked, "What happened?" Perhaps it was none of his business, but he was curious as to why his teacher wasn't dressed appropriately for work and why he appeared to be so defeated.

"I had a. . . Eventful night." Gerard pressed his lips together, avoiding eye contact. "And that's all you need to know." Long story short, he had a minor hangover.

"Oh." Frank didn't know whether to take that as a good thing or a bad thing, so he refrained from winking -spending too much time with Brendon in the past had altered his way of thinking. Distracting himself, he turned his mind back to his art. "Can you help me with this?" He gestured to the image of Brendon he was attempting to shade.

Shifting his chair closer to Frank's, Gerard smiled, "Of course."

[Published 20 May 2019]  
[Last edited 28 October 2019]


	7. Chapter 7

Frank practically skipped in to art. Well, he would have if he hadn't have just had to run in the rain in PE while the teacher stood there with an umbrella, claiming that the weather " _Wasn't that bad"_.

Despite Frank's ragged state and sopping wet hair, his mood was sunshine and rainbows -for some unknown reason. He waltzed to the art rooms, opening the double doors at the same time, and strolled in.

Gerard raised his head, abandoning the work on his desk to snicker at Frank, whose expression morphed in to confusion.

"What?"

Eyes crinkling at the corners, Gerard just grinned even more. "Oh, nothing. You're just a funny sight to see." He gestured to the backwards t-shirt, baggy jeans and skew-whiff hoodie Frank was wearing.

"You try getting changed in, like, ten seconds to then leg it up here before the bell rings and the halls are turned in to fighting grounds." He retorted, sticking his tongue out.

"No, thanks." Gerard shrugged, only just noticing the guitar strapped to Frank's back. "You play well?" He gestured to it as he stood, moving to sit on one of the tables. He crossed his legs, letting his hands fall in his lap.

Frank wondered if that was an unconscious habit or Gerard simply had no regard for furniture.

Clearing his throat, he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess so." Hiding behind his hair, he blushed. Dumping his things on the floor, he was about to start his work when Gerard spoke up, a gleam of curiosity in his eyes.

"Can you play something for me? I'd love to hear it. I tried learning guitar once, but I never got the hang of it."

Frank's head snapped up, momentarily staring unsurely at him before he forced a smile. "I don't know. I've never played for anyone. . ."

"You won't even do it for me? Your favourite teacher?" Gerard gasped mockingly, clutching at his chest. Wisps of hair he'd swept away fell in to his eyes again, resting in a fringe over his forehead, then straying behind his ears.

"Shove off." Frank huffed, pushing Gerard's shoulder so hard that he had to put both of his hands behind him so he didn't fall, slender fingers splayed like a fan on the desk. That just made Gerard chuckle and bite his lip, raising his eyebrows at Frank.

"Anyway," Frank continued, putting a hand on his hip, "How do you know you're my favourite teacher?" He retorted, reaching for his bag.

"I always am, sugar-" He slapped a hand over his mouth, thankful Frank had turned around to unzip the cover on his guitar. Eyes wide, Gerard's face began to burn bright red and he felt fear flare in his chest. He hoped desperately that Frank hadn't heard him.

A redness tinted Frank's cheeks too.

Suddenly, it fell very quiet, save for their nervous shuffling. A blanket of awkwardness had been draped over them.

When he turned around, guitar in hand, Gerard could see it was obvious Frank had heard and it was clear that it'd made their situation weird. Frank sat on the table opposite, pretending to be totally invested in his instrument, focusing on the strings.   
   
"What-" Frank cleared his throat to stop it from squeaking. "What shall I play? Got any suggestions?"

"Well, uh," Gerard scratched the back of his neck, "Do you know any Green Day songs?"

"You know Green Day?" Frank beamed, grinning as he glanced up at a pale, red cheeked Gerard, who nodded. "That's another thing we have in common."

"Seems so." Gerard smiled too, trying to push his slip-up to the back of his mind.

Whereas Frank's thoughts were whirring. No one had ever called him something along those lines before. To be honest, it gave him this fluttery feeling in his chest, despite it also mildly mortified him. Admittedly, he debated on whether to ask Gerard about it, or to act on it himself and say something similar in return just to see what would happen. But whenever he thought of acting on it, a pain clenched at his chest and he decided it was a big _no_.

Finally, because they'd sat in silence for three or four minutes, glancing and gazing at each other, Frank spoke up. "I know Kill the DJ."

"Oh, I love that one." 

Psyching himself up, Frank quietly tapped his foot, trying to remember the chords. As he was about to strum, a smirk overtook his lips and he looked up at Gerard through his lashes. "Let's make a deal."

"A-alright?"

"If I play, you sing."

"What? No. I can't sing."

Frank scoffed. "Yes you bloody well can. I've heard you, remember? You have a lovely voice."

Fiddling with his fingernails, Gerard looked down, a little embarrassed and ashamed -because he really thought he couldn't. "I can't, I'm not that good."

" _Come on_ ," Frank refrained from rolling his eyes. "Please, believe me. You can sing. Plus, no one else is here. Only I can hear you. I won't judge, I promise."

"Really?" Gerard smiled sheepishly. 

"Really." He assured, beginning to strum the chords. 

-

Frank had been smiling the whole way through, listening intently to Gerard's voice -which was lower than he'd thought as Gerard's voice was very slightly high and nasally. He occasionally stole a glance at him, however Gerard kept his eyes closed and his head tilted downwards, his hair a shield that had slipped from being tucked behind his ears. 

"You were brilliant." Frank commented, causing his teacher to blush as he put his guitar away. "Up for another song on Monday?" He half joked.

"God, no." Gerard let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

"Why not? Wasn't it fun?" 

Lips parted slightly, he averted his eyes, nodding. "It was, it was, I-I just-"

"It's okay." Frank waved a hand dismissively.

Tidying his own things away, Gerard peered up at the clock. It was ten past four. At least they hadn't stayed in till late like they usually did. After all, it was Friday, they deserved to go home.

A comfortable silence washed over them, highlighting the noise of the rain on the roof.

Frank's shoulders sagged and he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "It's raining." He groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'm gonna have to walk home in this."

Gerard raked his fingers through his hair, then did up the buttons of his waistcoat before slipping his denim jacket on and pulling down the rolled up sleeves. An idea popped in to his head and he pondered it before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. "I can give you a lift in my car, if you want?"

Frank turned to Gerard, eyebrows raised in disbelief and gratitude. "You sure?"

"Of course."

-

They glared upon the wet concrete and the grey sky pouring above them. Frank held his hand out while the rest of him was safe under the roof. His palm was soaked almost instantly and he shook it off, catching Gerard's face with droplets, which didn't seem appreciated.   
   
"That sucks." Frank scowled, adjusting the straps on his bag.

"Get ready to run." Gerard said, a sly smirk capturing his lips, earning a confused expression in response.  
   
"What?"

"My car's over there." He pointed to the other side of the car park. "Come on." Without an explanation, Gerard grabbed Frank's hand, dragging him along behind him as he ran through the rain.

Their bags slowly slid from their shoulders to annoyingly settle at the crooks of their elbows. Frank's guitar wasn't easy to keep off the floor as it was pretty hard juggling it while racing through God's tears -as he liked to call it. Despite that, he grinned widely, laughing at their behaviour -as did Gerard.

When they made it, Gerard hastily unlocked the car, took Frank's guitar and put it in the boot, then slumped in to the driver's seat as Frank collapsed in to the passenger's side.

"I am so unfit." He panted, slicking back his damp hair.

"Me too." Gerard chuckled, revving up the engine and pulling out of the car park.

-

"This is it." Frank pointed towards the house on the end of the street.

The weather had calmed down, though it was still unpleasant to stand under.

"I'll get your guitar." Gerard offered, going to get out of the car.

"No, it's okay." Frank objected, getting out himself and fetching it as Gerard glanced at him through the windows. A moment later, Frank appeared at the passenger's side window, smiling kindly. "Thanks, Gee."

At the nickname, a wide smile spread over Gerard's face too and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "No problem."

"Hey," Frank raised his eyebrows, "You know where I live now. No stalking me."

"I can't promise that." Gerard joked, putting his hands up in surrender. "You never know, I might be that creepy something outside your window."

Eyes widening, he stepped back on to the curb. "I should hope so." He called back as he began to walk to his door.

[Published May 2019]  
[Last edited 28 October 2019]


	8. Chapter 8

Brendon trudged over to Frank and slumped in a seat beside him. Clearly he was searching for some sort of attention, because he huffed like a wolf.

Frank's expression morphed in to concern. "What's wrong?" He asked, knowing full well when something was bothering Brendon because he wasn't his naturally bubbly self.

"Ryan and I had a. . . Well; I wouldn't call it a fight." He moped, running his hands down his face in frustration.

"What did you do?" Frank raised his eyebrows.

"How dare you accuse me in my fragile state? You should be comforting me."

"Alright." Frank offered a small smile, opening his arms wide. "Come here." With that, Brendon instantly slouched back in to Frank's arms, resting his head on his chest as Frank combed his fingers soothingly through Brendon's hair. "Tell me what happened."

Although it was none of their business, a few students snickered at their affectionate behaviour, though it was nothing new. The pair had always had a touchy-feely relationship.

Even in the past few weeks when Brendon had been distant due to being in a relationship and developing more friends, they still shared hugs when they saw each other.

"I. . ." Brendon trailed off in a sigh. "I know it was my fault. . . Sort of." He quickly added, closing his eyes.

At this, Frank let out a long breath. He guessed Brendon had done something bad without meaning to. He often got things like social cues wrong or distorted. He remained silent, allowing Brendon to continue in a judge-free zone.

"Okay, so I was told there'd be a party at Melanie's house 'cause she'd got accepted in to a college-" Brendon began to ramble on, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. "So I went with Ryan. It was alright until we got separated from each other –it was so fucking crowded. I retreated to the kitchen, obviously, because that's where the food and drinks were, but there were people there already, including Dallon–"

Their teacher, Mrs Bowie, walked in and the class stopped muttering, a wave of respect washing over the room. Mrs Bowie was a fair teacher, loved by the students for her sense of humour and lack of homework-giving.

Reluctantly, Brendon sat up straight again in his own chair. Frank untangled his fingers from his hair and sat back. Quietly, while Mrs Bowie did the register, Frank leaned in to Brendon, muttering, "Do you want to talk later?"

"Your house?"

Frank nodded in confirmation.

-

After preparing caramel flavoured coffee –their favourite- Frank handed Brendon both mugs, then closed the blinds and drew the curtains before sitting down next to him on the floor of the living room. Now it was dark and they could only just see each other.

"So what happened?" he asked, taking his own coffee and raising it to his nose so he could smell the wonderful caramel smell.

Furrowing his brows, mulling over his answer, Brendon shuffled uncomfortably on the spot, avoiding looking at his best friend. Eventually he sighed and blurted out, "I kissed another guy."

"Oh." Frank pressed his lips together.

"I didn't do it. Well, I did, but I didn't want to! I mean, I was talking with Dallon and all of a sudden, he just fucking kisses me." Brendon explained, carding his fingers anxiously through his hair.

Taking a sip of the burning hot drink, Frank glanced at him through his lashes. "It clearly wasn't your fault –unless you were subconsciously flirting?"

"I was not." Brendon tightened his grip on the mug. "Our relationship'd been going so well –me and Ryan. We'd been going out for weeks, why would I ruin that now?"

"Commitment issues?" Frank suggested. Brendon gave him a death stare, causing him to regret saying it. But then Brendon's glare formed in to a frown and he sighed deeply.

"Maybe? You know I've never been in a relationship that's lasted more than a day."

 _It'd explain a lot_ , was what Frank was originally going to say, though he didn't want to upset his friend further with a lousy line, so he thought of something more helpful. "Have you told this to Ryan?"

"No. . ." Brendon took a swig of his coffee. "He didn't give me a chance. I tried explaining the rest by talking over him, but I guess I wasn't loud or quick enough."

"That sucks."

"It really does."

–

The pouring rain outside matched how Gerard was feeling; gloomy and like a sad song should be serenading him in to the building.

Not bothering to put his denim jacket on, he draped it over his arm, allowing the water to soak through his shirt, and grabbed his satchel from the passengers seat, then locked the car as he trudged in through the door to the house –if you could call it that.

He hated it but it was all he could afford.

Usually, his parents sent along some money to help him, as he had chucked all his money in to going to college. Mikey, his brother, would often offer a check or try to sneak notes in to his wallet, but Gerard always declined or found out. Even though he was skint, he didn't like loaning money because he would be in a constant worry about paying it back.

Gerard dug around in his pockets for his keys, then shoved the right one in to the lock and opened the door.

Gerard's house was small –smaller than it should have been for two people.

Straight from the door was the living room, where his partner was currently sleeping, and an archway at the back of the room led in to a little kitchen. It had a gas cooker, a fridge freezer and limited storage space. Back in the living room, the stairs were opposite the door, leading up to a small landing, which held two separate rooms. One was fairly big, the other could barely just fit a bed and a wardrobe in it.

Quietly, Gerard set his things down on the dining table, cringing when his keys hit the wood loudly. He glanced to his right, hoping he hadn't woken Bert, his boyfriend, who stirred only slightly, then rolled over and drifted back to sleep.

Letting out a deep breath of relief, Gerard seized the opportunity while there was peace in the house and trudged upstairs to get a shower and wash his hair. Just as he'd gathered his things and grabbed a clean towel, he heard Bert's gruff voice shouting him.

"So close." Gerard whispered, setting aside a shower and creating more wet footprints in the carpet as he descended. He rolled up his sleeves with difficulty as the wet material clung to his skin.

Gerard had his head hung low and eyes focused on the floor, so it startled him when two hands wrapped around his waist and pulled him close when he got to the bottom of the stairs. Bert was strong, lifting Gerard off his feet and carrying him across the living room.

"Put me down." He chuckled, not wanting to admit that the hands on his waist tickled greatly.

"Never." Bert smirked, falling backwards on to the sofa and pulling Gerard down with him so Gerard's knees were either side of his hips, straddling him. "Your clothes are wet."

"I know," Gerard sighed. "I was about to change when you called me."

"Don't." He laughed in a short breath. "I can see through your shirt."

Gerard raised his eyebrows as Bert brushed strands of black and teal hair behind his ear. "But I'm uncomfortable like this." He mumbled, refraining from rolling his eyes.

"You could take it off?" Bert suggested slyly in a low voice, threading his fingers through Gerard's hair and pulling him down for a kiss. It seemed rushed and desperate. Wrapping his arms around Bert's neck, Gerard pulled away, lips tinted red.

"I have work to do, I can't right now." He whispered, licking his lips as he tasted the beer Bert had been drinking.

"Do it later." It was more of a command than a suggestion and Bert's hands went to the top buttons of Gerard's shirt, undoing them until Gerard took a hold of his hands to stop him and got up off Bert's lap, letting his hands go.

The stern expression Bert held made a spark of fear flare in his chest, so he compromised in the softest voice possible, knowing Bert always agreed. "I really have a lot to do, but as soon as I'm done I'll do whatever you want, okay?"

"You better." Bert muttered, gently pulling once on Gerard's tie as he walked past him in to the kitchen and opened the fridge, searching for another drink.

[Published 5 June 2019]  
[Last edited 28 December 2019]


	9. Chapter 9

Finally, at long last, the date had landed on a bank holiday and Frank couldn't have been more grateful for the extra day of break from school. In addition, as if by some miracle, his parents were home. Sadly, they had to leave again on Tuesday.

Currently, he was curled up on the sofa, watching TV with his mother (they often watched and discussed shows together because it gave them something to talk about –they didn't have a lot in common) as they caught up on the gaps in Frank's life they had missed. Unfortunately, Frank's father hadn't succeeded in staying in for Monday night and had gone out shopping, claiming he would make his absence up by buying his son his favourite chocolate.

She turned the volume down, turning to her son, making an effort. "So what subjects did you take?"

Frank's face lit up, eager to share his news, and he sat up properly, leaning on the arm of the sofa. "I got in to higher music, game development, photography and art. But I still have to take bloody maths, English, religious studies and PE, which Ger-Mr Way said he'd try and get me out of so I can do art instead, because I have to do last year's art as well as this year's art."

"I'm sorry we dumped you in a new place all of a sudden, especially when you're on your last year." She sighed, scraping her hair back from her face, although it was already tied back.

Frank looked down, finding the carpet the most interesting thing in the world. "It's okay." And honestly, it was. They had gotten him away from a building full of bullies and an awful town that he hated himself for missing. "I like it here." He smiled weakly, knowing it wasn't his parent's fault that they'd had to move so suddenly.

"Why do you have to do two year's worth of art?"

"Because I wasn't here. . ."

"That's ridiculous. Doesn't this school have your work from your previous school? Can't they use that instead?"

"I don't know, but if they do, apparently not. They said I have to do it. And I'm not gonna question it."

"You have to stand up for yourself." She stated firmly, letting Frank know that a lecture on his confidence levels was going to come next, which he really did not want to hear. Again. He didn't want their limited time together to be ruined by the mention of his growing insecurities.

"It's fine, it's not that big of a deal!"

"Fine." She huffed, resting her head on her hand as she stared mindlessly at the TV. "What about that lad, Brendon? Are you still friends with him?"

"Yeah." He mumbled, not bothering to bring up the fact they'd seen less of each other because that type of conversation could last hours. "Art isn't that bad anyway." He spoke up, trying to convince his mother not to go in and talk to the school herself –he knew she would. "I have an awesome teacher. Mr Way."

"Oh yeah?" She smiled; glad he didn't have super strict teachers like she'd had. "Why's he so awesome?"

"I don't know." Frank felt his cheeks beginning to heat up so he glanced away, trying not to let a huge grin dominate the poker face he'd been attempting to master. "He's just kind and is more of a friend than a teacher. Plus, he brings in biscuits sometimes." He quickly added so he didn't come across as gushing; which he totally wasn't doing anyway.

"Does he help with you with your extra art?"

"Yeah, I do it after school."

"That's nice of him to stay after school with you."

Inevitably, a grin broke through. His face reddened as he fiddled with the zip on his hoodie, looking down to hide his smile. "Yeah, it is."

–

To Frank's disappointment, the bank holiday Monday had ended, catapulting him in to Tuesday, where he had to go to a school where no one particularly liked him and he didn't like them either. Save for Brendon, though he was becoming more of a shadow too. At least he had Gerard. Sort of.

Currently, Frank had his head on the desk, arms folded in front of him as he tried to catch up on the sleep he'd missed.

Getting up early to get in to school for eight (an hour earlier than he should have been there) was exhausting and he just wanted to collapse on the pavement sometimes. But he'd been doing it for some months and he wasn't going to quit now.

Just as he'd drifted off, the door opened and Gerard waked in.

Lips parted, he was about to speak when he noticed Frank's state. Furrowing his brows, he dumped his stuff down by his desk, then went over to Frank, crouching down beside him.

"Frank?" He touched Frank's shoulder gently. When he didn't stir, he came to the conclusion he was sound asleep and wasn't going to wake up any time soon. Though he had a class in forty minutes and he couldn't let Frank snooze through it. "Frank?" he repeated a little louder.

A groan came from under the mop of hair. Frank raised his head slightly, eyes soon focusing on Gerard beside him. "Hey." He murmured in a low, raspy voice.

Gerard chuckled. "I'm going to need you to move, sleeping beauty."

"I'm no beauty." Frank joked drowsily, not totally registering the world around him.

"Frank." Gerard sighed, wanting to correct him on that. Instead, he just took a deep breath, ready to speak, but he realised Frank's eyes had fluttered shut once again and his breathing was slow and steady. Clearly he was in no state to cooperate.

Running his fingers through his hair, Gerard shook Frank's shoulder lightly until he half woke up, weary. A loose solution floated in his mind and he debated on acting on it. However, his mind was made up when he took pity on the teen. "Hey," Gerard whispered, "Put your arms around my neck, come on."

Nodding, Frank snaked his arms around Gerard's neck as Gerard hooked his arms under Frank's knees, lifting him up bridal style. As he walked to the middle room, he felt Frank take a deep breath, tickling the skin on his neck.

"Your hair smells nice." Frank commented, threading his fingers through Gerard's hair, tugging ever so lightly, making him shiver slightly.

"Frank." It was meant to sound stern, though it came out as more of a low breath. "Stop that, please." He kicked the door open, careful not to knock Frank's head or feet as he crossed the threshold and gently sat Frank down in one of the chairs.

As Frank unhooked his arms from around Gerard's neck, his fingers ghosted across the skin of his neck and collarbone, causing Gerard to shiver again. Lips parted, he took a step back from Frank, who had settled down with his head on the desk, drifting off.

Sighing, Gerard adjusted the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling hot. He quietly closed the door, then wandered over to the windows and leaned against the frame, looking down across the football fields. The cold air wafted in, cooling him as he closed his eyes, resting his chin on his arms.

There was a sleeping student in the middle room and there were going to be other students coming in and out of the art rooms all day. Surely, they'd disturb Frank, or the other way around. Luckily, an idea popped in to his head and he hastily scribbled words on a scrap piece of paper.

_I've locked the door so people wouldn't just walk in so don't panic. I'll come and check on you when my lessons are over, okay? -G._

After placing that on the desk next to Frank, Gerard locked the door. Next, he called Frank's parents, firstly announcing who he was, informing them he was ill, which then led to Frank's parents calling the school to tell them he wasn't going in. Now, the teachers wouldn't be expecting Frank in any of their classes and he could sleep peacefully.

If they were found out, they'd get in to trouble, though Gerard couldn't guess how much. Maybe what he was doing wasn't that bad. After all, he was only helping out a student.

-

After the first two lessons of the day were over and Gerard was free for a couple of hours, he reminded himself to check on Frank. Carding his fingers through his hair, unintentionally making it messier, he swapped his waistcoat for his denim jacket and pulled the collar up.

Gerard hesitated when he came to the door. He felt somewhat guilty that Frank had had to sleep upright in a chair and fetched a glass of water from the staff room for Frank to help him feel better and hopefully wipe away some of his drowsiness.

Quietly, he unlocked the door, finding Frank with his head on the desk, staring at the door, or rather, now, he was staring at a timid teacher.

"Thanks for the note." Frank chuckled, throat a little hoarse, waving it in the air. "You're right, I would have panicked."

Gerard just smiled, placing the glass down on the table. "For you."

"Thank you." He returned the smile, grateful for the water as his head and throat ached, battling against each other to see which one could hurt him more.

Furrowing his brow, Gerard slowly reached over, tucking runaway strands of hair behind Frank's ear before placing a hand on his forehead. "Are you okay?"

"I guess so?" He shrugged. "Why?"

"You're hot. . . Your-your head feels hot, I-I mean." Gerard stuttered, retracting his hand as his cheeks began to burn a faint red.

"Oh." Frank put the glass down. Then confusion washed over his features as he glanced at Gerard. "What. . . Why aren't I in lesson? Won't I get in trouble for being here?"

"I sorted that." Gerard beamed, a little proud of himself. "I told your parents you were ill, who told the school, so they won't expect you in lesson."

Frank seemed baffled, fiddling with the zip of his hoodie. "You did that for me?"

Pressing his lips together, Gerard nodded.

"But I'm not even ill." He protested, almost folding his arms in defiance.

"You might be. Anyway, aren't you glad you got an extra day off?"

"Yeah." A smile crept back on to his face. He looked at Gerard, who was darting his eyes around the room, seemingly not knowing Frank was staring, which meant he could stare a little longer, fully taking in the characteristics of Gerard's face. Since he'd become his teacher, he hadn't properly seen what he looked like -Frank had a problem with eye contact. Though, Gerard wasn't looking back at him right now, so he traced his face with his eyes.

Then it was over as Gerard felt his gaze and flicked his eyes to Frank, who instantly smiled sheepishly and glanced down.

"What time is it?" Frank asked, for the purpose of filling the silence.

Gerard checked the non-existent watch that he didn't own. He breathed a short laugh. "There's a clock in the other room."

-

To not totally waste the day, Gerard had given Frank his 'still life' art work to do, leaving him to listen to music so he could continue with his own work, which was beginning to eat away at his patience. Honestly though, he hadn't expected marking two classes worth of books to be fun. The constant chatter from Mr Wright's class next door wasn't helping either. They were a seriously noisy bunch and eventually, Gerard surrendered, holding his head in his hands as he waited for the bell to ring to signal lunch.

All the way through the last hour, the nagging at the back of his mind was shouting at him to finish the work at school -mainly because Bert hadn't been too happy about him working at home last time. So when the bell actually rang, it sent a shock of panic down Gerard's spine and he stared wide eyed at the stack of books on his desk, wishing for them to disappear.

"Hey." Frank greeted, startling him. He sat down at a desk near Gerard with his oat bar, wondering why Gerard seemed so jolted. "I know I'm the one with the banging headache, but are _you_ okay?"

A long sigh escaped his chapped lips and he rubbed his eyes vigorously, causing them to water. "I want to go to sleep too. Mind if we both skive and I join you back there?" He laughed dryly, peering at Frank through his fingers.

Finishing his bar rather hurriedly and throwing the wrapper in the bin, he joked, "Be my guest."

[Published 17 June 2019]  
[Last edited 9 November 2019]


	10. Chapter 10

The rain never seemed to stop in Jersey. Frank swore it had been raining and cloudy for a week straight. Not once had they been blessed with a ray of sunshine. To be fair, though, Frank didn't mind because he hated the sun. It made him tired and hot and he just despised it.

However, now that he was jogging in the freezing cold, he would have appreciated a bit of sun. But to no avail, it remained bad weather for the whole fifty minutes. How he envied the PE teacher that got to stand with a thick coat, gloves and a hat on at the side-lines of the track.

Eventually, by some miracle, Frank caught up with Brendon, who was alone as Ryan wasn't in their PE class.

"Hey," he panted, the cold air leaving his lungs and throat burning.

"I am dying." Brendon replied drearily, seemingly in worse shape than Frank, which they both thought impossible because Frank never exercised unless he had to; regardless of the fact it might improve his health.

"Me too." Reaching forwards, he clasped his hand around Brendon's shoulder and they both soon came to a halt. Frank bent over with his hands on his knees, Brendon substituting Frank's back for a pillow. "You can't use me like that." Frank chuckled, which turned in to a minor coughing fit. He held a hand to his mouth.

"I can do what I please." Brendon retorted, closing his eyes and wishing he could just collapse in to bed and be warm.

"Don't count on it." He straightened up slowly, allowing Brendon time to balance himself again. "When's this hell over?"

Taking a deep breath, setting fire to his lungs, Brendon checked his watch. "Fifteen minutes. . . Fourteen."

"Thank God."

–

Despite the rain, when the bell rang, they took their sweet time. There was no way Frank was going to try to get changed in thirty seconds to then dash up the stairs after that fiasco. Instead, he was going to wait until all the other students had left the building. Thankfully, Brendon had joined him so he wasn't by himself.

"Maybe I should go to a gym. Then I wouldn't be such a failure in PE." Brendon contemplated, running his hands down his face to wipe off some of the water.

"We've only got till next year and we won't ever have to do it again. There's no point in wasting your time in a gym." Frank countered. "You'd have to pay anyway. Why would you pay for physical torture and embarrassment?"

"Can't argue with that logic." Brendon let out a short laugh, sweeping back his long fringe from his eyes.

By now, the changing rooms were empty and they were free to take as long as they wanted. It was calming to not have to rush.

"But," Brendon continued, "What if I was naked-"

"Why would you be naked?"

"-And I was just this lanky thing underneath these fabulous clothes. I could have actual muscles."

"No. . . I stand by my previous statement." Frank grabbed his bag off the floor, going in to one of the cubicles to change. It was difficult as his wet clothes clung to his skin. Fortunately, he was in no hurry.

After a few minutes, Brendon banged loudly on the door, startling him enough that he let out a small shriek, falling back against the wall opposite. Not to mention the toilet. Thankfully, it was closed.

"Is that a girl in there?"

"Bren, what the fuck?" Frank scowled, although he couldn't see him. Quickly, he pulled a hoodie over his head, unlocked the door and stepped out. He glared at Brendon, who was holding back a laugh.

"Come on, that was funny." He only received a death stare. "No? Not for you, maybe. Anyway, I was waiting for you. Come on, slowcoach, let's go."

"Go where?"

"Home?"

"I can't, I have art to do." He shrugged. They opened the double doors together, wandered in to the main hall and then began ascending the main stairs. "Wanna come with?"

Half way up the stairs, Brendon paused, biting his lip and weighing the odds. "I was going to contact Ryan. . ." He mumbled.

"Did you two make up?" Frank felt that pang of sadness again at being left out of things and the last one to know everything.

"No."

Frank almost cheered.

Brendon pouted, resisting the urge to stomp his foot. "But I want to tell him what really happened. I haven't had the chance so far and I was hoping to do it by the end of the week."

"Oh, right." Frank muttered, running his fingers through his damp hair as it was starting to stick to his face. "Go on, then. And tell me how it goes; I'm rooting for you two." Even though he missed the closeness he and Brendon had, he really was.

–

No matter how down he felt, he couldn't help but smile when he saw Gerard sitting on one of the tables, marking work with an expression so intense, it could crack stone. The denim jacket he always wore engulfed him, the sleeves going past his finger tips. Frank only just realised how big it was on him.

"Hey." Gerard murmured, not looking up. The pen he used scribbled across the page so harshly that Frank was surprised he hadn't torn a hole through it.

"Hey."

"How was. . . Your. . . Day?" He spoke slowly, too immersed in work to talk properly.

  
"Alright." Frank dumped his bag on the floor with a loose shrug of his shoulders. "What about you? Bad day?" he hinted at the fact Gerard's lips were tightly pressed together and his eyes were possibly going to shoot actual daggers.

The pen went through the paper and he cursed quietly, lifting it up to the light and so that Frank could see. "Will they be mad?" His expression softened in to one of defeat.

"I don't think so." Frank said as he tentatively stepped closer to Gerard, who carefully placed the books in to a pile, then glanced up. At the sight of him, Frank felt his heart do a dive. There were red rings around Gerard's eyes, which were partly covered by smudged eyeliner, and (to no surprise) his hair was tangles, falling in ringlets to framed his pale face. "What's wrong?"

"There's so much work to do and-" He took a deep breath. "And the classes are so noisy and I-I just-" His voice cracked and he ended his ramblings there, running his fingers through his hair and pulling at it as he screwed his eyes shut.

Gerard forced down the lump in his throat as he tried to calm himself. When he opened his eyes, Frank was stood directly in front of him with his arms open wide. His eyes trailed from Frank's chest up to the comforting smile on his lips and finally to his sympathetic eyes.

"Hug?"

Nodding slightly, Gerard stood up from the table, allowing Frank to wrap his arms around him as he did the same. They were more or less the same height -give or take one or two inches- so Gerard buried his head in the crook of Frank's neck. Tears threatened to spill over, but he closed his eyes and focused on Frank's heartbeat that he could ever so faintly hear.

"Don't push yourself so hard." Frank said gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His breath was warm against Gerard's skin, causing him to sigh contently. "If you're not okay now, it's fine. You will be."

These were such consoling words from someone who was usually a joker. Gerard was pleasantly surprised and felt much better than he did before.

"Thank you." He murmured in to Frank's chest.

Then it fell silent.

Eventually, Frank realised how intimate they were being and grudgingly made the decision to pull away, though his hands lingered on Gerard's hips for a moment longer. Gerard followed his lead, moving his arms from around Frank, to hold them awkwardly at his side as he hunched over, making himself seem as small as he felt.

The silence hung in the atmosphere, awkwardness in the mix somewhere. 

Frank searched for something to say, anything. "Are you okay?" Mentally, he kicked himself because it was a stupid thing to say as he already knew the answer.

Hesitantly, Gerard nodded. "I feel a bit better now." He smiled weakly, avoiding Frank's gaze while Frank was doing the exact opposite and gazing shamelessly (though he hoped it would go unnoticed) at Gerard. "I'm sorry." Gerard squeaked. 

"What for?" Frank took a step back, furrowing his brow.

Scratching the back of his neck, Gerard hung his head a little. "For being a wreck. You shouldn't see me like that. I'm your teacher."

Reality hit Frank like a ton of bricks. He'd almost forgotten that annoyingly important detail. "Well. . ." He seriously debated speaking this next. "You're my friend, too." He took a small step back again, hoping his words weren't too forward or untrue on Gerard's part. 

But Gerard only smiled as looked at him. "Really?"

Shyly, Frank nodded. 

"You're my friend, too."

[Published 14 June 2019]


	11. Chapter 11

In celebration of the weekend, Frank slept in until one o'clock in the afternoon. There was no reason to get up at all and he revelled in that fact. Unfortunately, though, he grew hungry and reluctantly forced his body out of bed. But that idea was pretty much useless and he dropped to the floor with a loud thud, sending a shock of pain through his knees.

He groaned, scraping his hair back from his face. Sighing, Frank got up, trudging downstairs. He stopped in front of the hall mirror when he caught sight of himself. His hair was quite literally a bird's nest and he could almost hear chirping. Bags were set dark under his eyes, which baffled him because he'd slept well and for hours.

Waving a hand dismissively at his reflection, he continued on to his true goal; food.

Frank raided the cupboards and found nothing good, so when he came across leftover pizza in the fridge, he grinned. Just as he'd taken it and settled himself in the living room on the sofa, a ringing sounded from upstairs and he cursed, throwing the slice of pizza back in to the cardboard box. "I'll be back for you." He grumbled, voice hoarse and quiet.

Once upstairs, he flopped on to his bed, pulling the laptop off his bedside table towards him as he opened it. Brendon's icon was flashing on the screen and when Frank glanced at the number in the corner, he saw he had four missed calls from him; five as the call ended. Then his icon popped up again immediately.

"What the hell can be this important?" He mumbled, finally clicking on the icon. "What?" He rested his head on his hand, giving a deadpan look to Brendon, who seemed frantic on the other side of the screen. His usually styled-to-look-effortless hair was falling over his eyes and the collar of the bomber jacket he wore was skew-whiff.

Despite the fact Brendon had interrupted his pizza feast, he was over the moon that he'd gotten a video chat request from him. They were rare these days.

"How long does it take for you to answer?" Brendon hissed, sending him daggers.

"Well, I was downstairs." Frank grumbled, rolling his eyes. He combed his fingers through his hair so he looked a bit more presentable. "Now, what's so important?"

"Me and Ryan made up."

"Really? That's great." He smiled, fighting away the gut feeling of slight jealousy and disappointment.

Brendon bit his lip anxiously, causing it to bleed. "But I don't think-it's not-he's-" he stuttered, digging his palms in to his eyes in frustration.

"Hey, calm down, what happened?" Frank asked softly, wishing he could put a hand through the screen to try to comfort him. When Brendon failed at stringing a coherent sentence together, Frank suggested, "Do you want to come 'round and talk about it?"

"I-I would, but I'm meeting Ryan soon. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh."

"We're meeting at King's later-" King's was the open-all-night café they often visited, "-And that's great, I don't mind, I can't wait, but guess who was with him when he rang me and who's also actually gonna be there?"

"Who?" He frowned, knowing exactly whose name was going to crop up.

"Dallon."

"Dallon? Why? I didn't think-"

"I don't know!" Brendon was close to panicking now. "Do you think Ryan knows it was him who I kissed? Do you think Dallon told him?"

Frank looked away, furrowing his brow. "I thought you already told him you kissed?"

"I said I kissed  _a guy_. I never told him who it was. And now that  _guy_  is gonna be there and I don't think anything good can come of this." Taking a deep breath, he paused, hoping for his best friend to come up with some glorious solution.

"I think you should try to calm down, don't bring up anything related to your slip-up and generally play it safe. I mean, you are glad you're going to see him, so make sure he knows that." Frank offered a small smile, knowing his advice wasn't the best, but it seemed to make Brendon relax a little as a ghost of a smile plastered itself across his face too.

"Yeah," Brendon breathed. "I am glad I'm gonna see him."

"You'll be fine, I promise."

Just then, startling them both, Brendon's phone rang and his face dropped.

"It's him." Brendon took a deep breath. "I gotta go, wish me luck."

"Good luck."

–

"Mikes!"

Gerard's voice was so loud through the phone that even Ray heard it from across the room.

"Hey, Gee." Mikey collapsed on to the sofa, gazing around the flat at his and Ray's success. Finally, after weeks of searching, they'd found an affordable apartment –granted ,it was rather small. They were moving in together to follow their aspirations of pursuing music as a career and New York seemed the place to start.

Although Mikey's parents had given him many lectures on how he was too young to be living by himself in a crowded city, they were immensely proud of him as they were unsure that he could pull it off. But he had, with lots of assistance from Ray. After all, it was his dream as well, and, he too, was leaving behind an uncertain but supporting family.

Thankfully, both of their parents had chipped in with costs. To Mikey's disappointment, the money he had saved up from working extra shifts at the department store hadn't been enough –even when he added it to the money Ray had saved up.

"How's it going?" Gerard asked curiously, dying to know what he'd been missing these past few weeks.

As he was about to answer, Mikey heard a different voice float in over the phone. It didn't sound particularly happy.

"It's Mikey." He heard Gerard whisper, then his voice grew steadily louder as he tried to explain. "I can't-I'm-Mikey's my brother and he hasn't called in ages . . . I won't." A long pause. "Later. I promise." Gerard's tone was suddenly weak.

"Who was that?" Mikey questioned, furrowing his brow. He always had to worry about and look out for his brother because he knew Gerard wouldn't do it himself. When Gerard didn't answer, Mikey pressed on, in a softer tone. "Who was it, Gee?"

Through the phone, Mikey heard a sigh. "That was Bert."

"You're still with him?"

"Of course." Gerard said defensively. He quickly changed the subject. "So how's New York? Have you found any jobs?"

Ray joined his best friend on the sofa. "No, but we got a place." He was too ecstatic to not tell someone about it. He hadn't had a chance to call his mother yet. His phone was plugged in and he was itching for it to finish charging.

"Hiya, Ray." Gerard added, recognising his voice.

"Hey, Gerard, how's it going? You're a teacher now, aren't you?"

"I'm trying to be." He sighed, defeatedly.

"Is it not going well?" Mikey frowned.

"Yeah," he dragged the word out. "But there's so much planning and marking and some of the students are noisy as hell. It's starting to feel like I'm back in high school, explaining a long presentation that never seems to end."

"You are the teacher. You did sign up for this."

"I know, I know." Mikey could practically hear Gerard rolling his eyes at him. "Anyway, tell me what you've got planned. You're in New York; you've always wanted to go there."

That was true. And now that Mikey had made it here, he was bouncing off the walls, although he kept a straight face. "We haven't had a lot of time to explore 'cause we've been busy with moving and stuff, but I don't want to do anything major yet-"

"To my disappointment." Ray interjected.

"-I want to get to know this place first." Mikey finished, sending a side glare at Ray for interrupting him.

Ray put his hands up defensively. "I just wanted to see Times Square, like a proper tourist."

"You're not tourists though, are you?" Gerard said.

Reality hit them both like a brick and the smiles fell from their faces.

"God, we aren't." Mikey breathed, running his fingers through his hair. Unknowingly, he let go of his phone and Ray had to lean forwards to catch it.

"Shocked?" Ray chuckled, making sure he didn't press a wrong button on the screen. "You still there, Gerard?"

"Yes." He paused and it went quiet for a moment, then they heard two voices on the other end of the line. They waited for a couple of minutes until Gerard spoke up again. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to go."

"That's okay. You'll have to visit us sometime." Mikey nodded, even though his brother couldn't see him.

"I will. Bye, Mikes." He rushed, hanging up abruptly.

"What-what shall we do for dinner?" Mikey coughed, switching his phone off and chucking it on a cushion.

"Take out." Ray answered simply. "We've earned it."

Mikey gave a small smile as Ray ruffled his hair.

[Published 18 June 2019]  
[Last edited 18 November 2019]


	12. Chapter 12

Honestly, despite the fact Frank's generation was moderately lazy, it was the generations before them that had screwed up their planet. For this reason, he didn't see why _he_ had to endure an hours assembly about how they had wrecked the earth and needed to change it before climate change grew worse.

In addition, he didn't get a chance to hide at the back of the hall where he wanted to; he got stuck in a middle row between two very tall people and he found it incredibly intimidating and unsettling. Anxiety was nagging at him and he just wanted to leave. Behind his back, he could hear people nattering and chuckling, and his brain automatically told him they were laughing at him -which really didn't help.

Trying to take his mind off the hundreds of people all in the one hall, he let his eyes wander around the room, mostly staring at the ceiling. He didn't care what the teacher was saying at all. He'd rather sleep.

Frank's knee bobbed up and down as his foot tapped the floor impatiently. He didn't realise he was doing it until the guy next to him poked him in the arm, sending him a glare that instantly made him stop. Heart beat quickening, his face immediately burned bright red. Suddenly, it felt like a spotlight was on him and he shrank back in to the seat, wishing he was anywhere but there.

Half an hour eventually dragged by and Frank's gaze began to drift again. He subtly moved his head to look around the room when his eyes landed on none other than Gerard, who was directly beside him.

Posture loose, Gerard was leaning casually with his back against the wall, thumbs hooked through belt loops, pulling the waist band of his jeans down a little. Messy black hair spiking where it was particularly tangled and wisps framed his pale face. Although it was pushed back, it still some how managed to fall in to his eyes. Gerard was facing the front, seemingly bored as he chewed his bottom lip. The harsh light from above highlighted how sharp his jawline was.

Frank unknowingly licked his lips and swallowed the lump in his throat, mouth having gone dry.

Gerard's eyes squinted as he turned his head to face Frank after feeling him staring. Their eyes met and Gerard raised his eyebrows. He nodded sideways to the front to tell Frank to focus.

But Frank couldn't focus. He offered a small smile, rolling his eyes, letting Gerard know the assembly was deathly tedious.

Shrugging his shoulders, Gerard mouthed, _"I know."_

This gave Frank the opportunity to glance at his lips, which he did and his gaze lingered a little longer than intended.

Finally, Frank did as Gerard said and turned to face the front again, a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. The room suddenly felt hot and he pulled the collar of his shirt to loosen it.

Little did he know, Gerard's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer too.

-

It was Monday. That meant Frank had to endure physical torture, yet again. However, luckily, by some miracle, one of the receptionists had caught him in his sixth lesson, English, and informed him that Mr Way wanted to see him when the lesson ended. Now, that put a hint of a smile on his miserable face. A few people had glanced weirdly at him as receptionist had called him out, dumping the attention on him, but he kept his head down and tried not to mind too much.

Once the bell had rang, Frank jumped up from his seat, weaved a path through the crowd of hellish students, that were always somehow already six feet tall, and slid in to the art rooms. Thankfully, 169a was completely empty, but Mr Wright had a lesson going on in the adjoining room and some of them turned around when they heard the door open. Facing burning bright red, Frank ducked in to 169a and pressed his back to the wall.

At first, Gerard didn't notice Frank come in. He hadn't heard the door and Frank's footsteps had been so quiet.

Usually, Frank would make his presence known, but the class in the other room had rendered him useless because he was scared he'd be heard.

Instead, he just quietly put his bag down, dug out his art supplies and sat down. He pulled his legs to his chest and rested his head on his knees, waiting silently for Gerard to look up from what he was doing. Frank stared through strands of hair that had flopped over his eyes, watching as Gerard squinted at the paper, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

It was a solid two minutes before Gerard sensed he was being watched. He furrowed his brows as his eyes drifted upwards. "Hey, Frank." A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Hey."

"How long have you been sitting there? You could have said something, I'm not that busy."

Frank shook his head. "Not that long." He paused, moving to sit properly on the chair. "So, what did you want me for?"

Ditching his not-so-interesting work, Gerard brushed the hair away from his face as he climbed on the table opposite to the one Frank was sat at. He pushed his shirt sleeves to his elbows, sitting close legged. "You'll be very glad to hear," he tilted his chin downwards slightly, making brief eye contact with Frank, who just smiled and looked away, "You don't have to do PE anymore."

"Really?" Frank beamed, straightening up. "That's great."

"You still have to do work, though."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Frank rolled his eyes. "But anything's better than PE."

"That's true." Gerard got up to seat himself on a chair on Frank's table. Leaning over, reaching for Frank's work, he sent Frank a look to ask if it was okay, to which Frank nodded, and Gerard took the finished piece. A smile spread across his lips. "Wow."

"Is it okay?" Frank nibbled at his lip ring, grinding it between his teeth.

"There are no critical comments I can think of." He narrowed his eyes and Frank snatched the drawing back playfully.

"Well, you don't have to look for any." He let out a short laugh, sticking his tongue out as Gerard raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side.

"That wasn't what I was doing . . ."

"Oh yeah?"

"Whatever." It was his turn to stick his tongue out. "I'm your teacher, it's my job."

To hear that specific detail he was beginning to forget, Frank's mood plummeted. He debated on whether to voice his next thought with another class next door. However, he enjoyed how he and Gerard were getting along so well in that moment, that he mumbled it quietly anyway. "Yeah, but I'm special. There are exceptions for me."

Subtly taking a deep breath, Gerard arose, aimlessly wandering over to his desk. He kept silent as his mind searched for an answer that was appropriate.

Though with each passing second, Frank's fear soared and he worried that he'd said something wrong. Suddenly finding it very interesting, he stared wide-eyed at the floor, mentally kicking himself. He shook his head so his long hair shielded his red-tinted cheeks. "I'm-"

"Those exceptions don't include skipping mistakes in your work." He paused, letting go of the seriousness in his tone. "They include biscuits."

Frank's head shot up at the sound of his voice, his expression relaxing in to a smile. "Can I have a biscuit?"

Gerard nodded, bringing out the packet that was hidden in his desk drawer, extending his arm out to Frank, who shuffled over, gladly taking two. As he ate, his eyes kept flickering to Gerard, who had a soft smile on his lips as he tried not to notice how much more happier he was around this particular person.

-

"That's great!" Gerard beamed, kicking his legs up on to the coffee table as he collapsed on to the sofa, burying himself in a blanket. It was bloody freezing, even though he had a fire going, crackling like a static background noise.

"Yeah, he starts on Monday." Mikey's voice rang through the phone. "I think he cant wait 'cause he keeps bringing it up every five minutes."

"Well you would too if it were you, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I know." Mikey breathed. He took a moment as his throat began to ache, then answered. "I-it's fine for now, though, I guess. . . It's just an apprenticeship, but we hope it'll lead to bigger things 'cause I don't think we can mooching money off mum and dad."

Gerard rolled his eyes, although Mikey couldn't see. "Don't worry; you'll be fine. Just don't buy anything too expensive."

"I won't."

"How about you, then? Ray can't be the only one working." Gerard teased, playing absentmindedly with a stray thread from the blanket.

"Absolutely nothing. It's crap, man. I thought New York would be a great place to find something to do in musi-"

The slam of a door cut Mikey's voice off, startling Gerard in the process. He whipped around to see Bert had trudged in, shivering from the weather. His hair, which he'd let grow down to his waist, was damp as it was raining. It was knotted, so he combed it through his his fingers. Gerard's attention drifted from his brother to his boyfriend as Bert wandered in to the kitchen, dumping his rucksack by the fridge.

Gerard stuffed his phone under a cushion so Mikey couldn't hear them. "Did you find anything?" He asked hopefully, biting his lip. Though by Bert's defeated expression and attitude, he could already guess the answer.

"Did I fuck?" Bert grumbled, slamming the fridge door shut as they were out of drinks. He scowled. "No jobs and no beer either."

Gerard rubbed his eyes, knowing how things got when Bert was in a sour mood. "I can go out and get more, if you want?" He offered, turning away to stare at the flames in the dying fire. The light reflected in his eyes.

When Bert didn't reply, just searched aimlessly through the kitchen cupboards, Gerard brought the phone back up to his ear.

"-Rard. Gerard?"

"I'm sorry, Mikes-"

"What happened? Why'd you disappear?"

"I have to go, okay? But I'll call you tomorrow?"

A long sigh. "Alright." He added quickly, "But remember, you have to come visit me."

"I will, I promise." With that, Gerard switched his phone off and placed it on the table. He glanced up at Bert through his lashes, a puzzled look on his face as he wondered what he could do to make him feel better. "What happened?"

"Weren't you listening?" Taking a deep breath, Bert grabbed his rucksack off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder and making his way for the stairs. "I couldn't find a job." The anger and frustration rose in his tone, causing Gerard to shrink back a little.

Gerard opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, so he watched Bert climb the stairs.

Ditching the blanket on the sofa, he trailed after him, wrapping his arms around his waist to conserve what warmth he had remaining. Though he only got as far as the landing because Bert had closed their bedroom door behind him. Gerard sighed, knocking quietly before he hesitantly entered, staying put at the threshold.

"What do you want?" Bert muttered from the bed, lying with his hands behind his head on the mattress on top of the covers.

"I wanted to see if you're okay." Gerard answered, slowly approaching the bed. Because Bert stayed quiet, he crawled on to the mattress, kneeling next to him. He brushed the hair away from Bert's face. "Are you okay?"

Bert raised his eyebrows, trying to resist the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He gazed at Gerard. "I'm a bit better now."

"Good." Gerard smiled, leaning forwards as he placed his hands either side of Bert's head and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Taking the opportunity that Bert was in a slightly brighter mood, one that he might not get a chance to see for a while, he debated on whether to bring up what he and Mikey had been discussing for the past couple of weeks. "I have some news." He offered a small smile.

'What?" Bert frowned, narrowing his eyes skeptically at him.

"You know Mikey called?"

"Yeah."

"Well," Gerard sat back, lowering his eyes to stare at his hands. "Mikey said he and Ray have settled in at New York and I could go visit them soon."

Bert shifted, propping himself up on his elbows. "Would I be coming?"

"I-I'm not sure."

"Didn't you tell Mikey I would?" Bert's expression morphed in to a scowl. Gerard edged away as he knew how Bert couldn't control his temper sometimes. It exploded quickly and took hours to calm down. "I don't want to stay here in this house alone all by myself. It's bad enough that I never see you because you're at work for hours on end."

"I-"

"I don't understand." Bert sat up right, his height allowing him to tower over Gerard, who scratched his neck, suddenly feeling guilty. "Is it that you don't want to be around me?"

Taking a deep breath, Gerard shook his head. "No, of course n-" He reached out, but Bert's tone grew harsher and he winced.

"It is, isn't it?" Bert raked his fingers through his hair as he got up from the bed, facing away.

Gerard rubbed his eyes, getting up to stand behind him. He wanted to seem like he had confidence, though his voice came out weak and it wavered more than he'd liked. "Please, no, it's not that-"

"Not that?" Bert whipped around, causing Gerard to flinch. "So there _is_ a reason?"

Eyes widening, Gerard shook his head vigorously, holding his hands up in surrender. "No-" He was cut off as a sharp pain ignited in his cheek, head turning to the side as Bert's hand collided with his skin. He lost his footing and stumbled a little. Lips parted, his eyes began to water and Gerard brought a hand up, lightly touching the area that stung like hell. It'd happened once before, but it hadn't hurt like this.

"Please." Gerard managed to murmur.

"Quit it, don't bother." Bert gripped his wrist tight enough to form a mark.

Gerard whined pathetically, streaks of tears starting to trickle down his face.

Ignoring him, Bert hauled Gerard out of the room, throwing him so his back smacked the wall opposite their door. "You can sleep in there." He pointed to the spare bedroom, scowling.

"Please-"

"I don't. Care." Bert growled, slamming the door.

Then Gerard crumbled, sliding to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest as he swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back tears.

-

The sun had gone down hours ago. None of the lights had been switched on in their house. Bert hadn't even come out of their room, Gerard had barely moved from his spot. The only thing he'd done was leave and come back with a glass of water.

Finally deciding that enough time had passed and hopefully Bert would either be asleep or have calmed down by now, Gerard nervously pushed the door open. He revealed Bert on the bed, asleep, snoring lightly with his back to the door. Silently, Gerard wandered across the room and cautiously got on the mattress, shuffling so he was close enough to his boyfriend.

"What do you want?" Bert mumbled rolling over.

"Please believe me." Gerard placed his hands on either side of Bert's shoulders, his hair creating a wall around them. Sleepily, Bert smiled and Gerard was thankful for his drowsiness. "I want you around more than anything."

Bert ran his fingers through Gerard's hair, to which Gerard shivered. "Prove it."

[Published 20 June 2019]  
[Last edited 21 December 2019]


	13. Chapter 13

Due to the fact Frank had no social life or parents that could also occupy his time, he had taken it upon himself, despite the anxiety screaming in his head, to get a job. He would have preferred one where he didn't have to communicate with other people, but he had been unsuccessful in finding one and had taken a job at a small local cafe.

The atmosphere was warm; dimmed lights casting a yellow glow over the area. There weren't many other workers and the manager seemed polite and understanding of Frank's social anxiety. In the first week at his new job, he was given small tasks where he didn't come in to contact with lots of customers. He often came in late after school to sweep floors or clean tables.

Over time, he was given more substantial tasks, such as jotting down orders. Frank's legs shook every time a person at a table called him over, however, he knew he could have done with building up some confidence, so each time, he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to make sure he spoke clearly.

On a slow Saturday, Frank had taken the evening shift. For the most part, it was quiet and he'd gotten to sit at one of the back tables, drinking a coffee. Though it was only a few minutes before people started piling in; the majority partly drunk and looking for something to sober them up. With their drunken states, they also brought in noise and crowds, sending Frank's anxiety levels through the roof.

"Frank?" The manager clapped to grab his attention, then motioned for him to begin serving.

Taking a deep breath, Frank nodded and thus began his own personal nightmare.

-

Eventually, as if God had finally answered Frank's prayers, the crowds gradually died down and the noise ceased to a low chatter. There were only a few people left. Frank grabbed the empty mugs from a table near the back and was about to clear them away, when a certain customer caught his eye. They were sat in the very back corner on their laptop, typing away furiously.

Of all people, Frank was least expecting to see his art teacher there. Gerard was hunched over his work, staring intently with half lidded eyes at the screen. A leather jacket was draped over the back of the chair, and he was wearing a thin, sleeveless t-shirt and the tightest jeans Frank had ever seen. They were ripped at the knees (and one rather large rip creeping up the seams of his inner thigh, which Frank tried to avert his gaze from). As usual, Gerard's hair was a mess and Frank suppressed a small chuckle at the sight of him.

Keeping his head down, Frank made his way over. Regardless of the fact he knew Gerard, he was even more nervous to approach him. Though if he didn't, he knew the manager would tell him to anyway -he was the only waiter working so late in the evening.

Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat. "What can I get you?"

Gerard's chapped lips parted and he slowly tore his eyes away from the screen. "A-" his eyes traveled up to meet Frank's, the words evaporating in to thin air. A redness instantly tinted his cheeks at having been caught all dishevelled outside of school. Putting his hands in his lap, he glanced down briefly, biting his lip.

"Hey." Frank offered a smile, hoping this situation wasn't going to be uncomfortable.

"Hey," He gazed up at him, "I-I'll have a coffee. Black."

The lights above cast hazy shadows upon Gerard's face, making his delicate features seem even softer. The light reflected golden in his eyes, too, and Frank almost stared.

Shifting nervously on his feet, Frank took his lip ring between his teeth before speaking. He found it odd and simply had to voice this out loud. "Is this weird?"

"Only if you make it weird." Gerard returned the smile. Suddenly remembering, he put his knees together so the huge rip in his jeans wasn't visible to Frank, although Frank had already seen it.

Having noticed what Gerard was doing, Frank blushed and wondered if he was crossing a line. "I know."

Narrowing his eyes at him, Gerard tried to read the expression on his face, but ended up clueless. "Is it weird _now_?"

"I think so." Frank chuckled. "Anyway, I'll bring you your coffee-"

"Oh, wait." Gerard grabbed Frank's hand gently before he could walk away. Frank glanced down at their hands, his heart pounding in his ribcage -it might have shattered. "Sorry." Gerard let go, his slender fingers brushing Frank's as he pulled away. "I-I was going to say, I'll need two cups of coffee, actually."

Shaking his head slightly, Frank switched his gaze to stare at the laptop instead. "Late night?" He asked with a small smile.

"Unfortunately. I have a lot of work to do, but it's nice to be outside of a classroom."

Pulling up a chair, Frank sat opposite him, resting his elbows on the table. "Not more work for my class, I hope?" He sighed internally, really hoping it wasn't.

"Well. . ." He bit his lip with a slight smirk.

"Really?" Frank groaned, running his fingers through his hair.

"Don't worry," Gerard flicked his gaze from the screen to his student. "If you struggle with anything, I can help you out."

"That'd be great."

"Frank?" the manager came up behind him, making him jump.

Frank pressed his lips in to a thin line, rolling his eyes, and Gerard had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling.

"Enough skiving, I need for you to get back to work."

As much as Frank wanted to stay with Gerard, he nodded, rising from his seat. Now he had to decide if he was embarrassed by being told off in front of his teacher, or scared he was going to get shouted at later. Perhaps it was both.

When the manager walked off, a weight lifted from his shoulders. Sighing, he tore his gaze from Gerard's, cheeks blooming a faint red. "I'm sorry, I have to. . ." He gestured to the empty plates, bowls and mugs on the numerous tables.

"I understand." Gerard waved a hand dismissively. "I'll see you on Monday."

"And I'll get you your coffee."

Gerard chuckled quietly, muttering a small, "Thank you."

-

Of course, the one time Frank came home late, was the one time that his parents are actually there -for a change. He'd taken the late shift, on a Saturday night, and as a result, had had to walk back in the pitch black streets of New Jersey, which his parents _really_ did not seem too happy about. In his defence, their house wasn't too far away.

When he'd gotten home, he'd unlocked the door to an angry mother, who was sat on the stairs, an unimpressed expression on her face.

Immediately, he wished he could slowly close the door and hope he hadn't been seen already. He was glad it was dark in the hall and he could only see outlines of furniture and his mother. The one light source was the streetlamp shining through the window by the stairs. At least she couldn't see the terrified, yet irritated, look on his face.

Though he could see hers. She scowled. "Why're you coming home so late?"

"I was at work." He muttered, dropping his keys on the side cabinet.

"Oh," She smiled, seemingly briefly distracted, "You have a job?"

"Yeah. . ?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You weren't here to tell." He retorted, shrugging his jacket off and hanging it on a hook.

She folded her arms across her chest. "You could have called me."

"You know I don't like talking on the phone."

"You could have texted me?"

Frank sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "You never answer me." If they went on any further, he was going to start to get stroppy. Truth be told, he didn't like talking to his parents, they always turned every joke, or conversation, or hobby in to a year-long lecture.

"I might have if you actually _tried_ contacting me."

Having already heard enough, he kicked off his shoes, then trudged down the hall to the kitchen for something to eat. He hadn't had a chance to have dinner while he was working, now left starving.

"Don't walk away from me while I'm talking to you." She huffed, striking a pang of fear in Frank's chest -he hated it when she started shouting.

"I'm getting something to eat, Jesus. I've been out all day." He whined, yanking the fridge open.

She appeared in the doorway behind him, clearly not in the mood for her son's rude attitude. "I was too, but I had time to get dinner."

Frank kept quiet.

She tried to lighten the dreary atmosphere. "So, where do you work?"

"At the cafe a few minutes away." He mumbled, grabbing an oat bar and pouring himself some juice. "It's going well, but I hate having to talk to people." He shuffled in to the dining room, slouching in one of the chairs.

"Well," She began and he just knew a lecture was coming, "You can't go your whole life without talking to other people. You have to stop this, Frank. You can't isolate yourself forever."

 _I can try_ , he thought bitterly, taking a deep breath. He didn't reply as he stood and left the room, desperate to get away. He had heard it all plenty of times before. "I'm going to bed." He called back.

"Don't make a racket, your dad's already asleep. He has to be up early."

Frank scoffed. What did she think he was going to do?

[Published 20 August 2019]  
[Last edited 25 November 2020]


	14. Chapter 14

Keeping on top of school work, his job and his nagging parents, Frank's already small social life had begun to disintegrate. Although they had art, music and English together, he hadn't been able to talk to Brendon since their brief video chat.

Without Brendon there, Frank couldn't exactly say he even had a social life, which did not go down well with his parents, especially his mother because, for some reason, she wanted to be as invested in his life as he was. She'd complained when he told her he hadn't socialised with another human being in over a week –unless his art teacher counted. But he wasn't about to explain to his mother the weird friendship he and Gerard were currently holding.

Unfortunately, it was school again but this had been the first time Frank had been excited to go in on a _Monday_ –only because he knew he was with Brendon in English and they'd have a chance to talk.

Sure enough, as the bell went, Brendon hurried in to the English room, careful to dodge stray chairs as he weaved his way over to Frank, who smiled.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess." Brendon sighed as he slumped beside him, dumping his bag on the table with a dull thud.

Furrowing his brows, Frank noticed the weariness etched in to his features and his smile faded. "What happened? How did your date go?"

He shook his head. "Does it count as a date if there's a strange third wheel?"

"Dallon really did go?"

"Yup." He popped the 'p'. "And he wasn't the third wheel. I felt like those two were on a date while I sat there and watched my relationship with Ryan wash away."

"Really?" Frank scowled. "Dallon has the nerve to do that to _both_ of you? If I had any confidence or strength, I'd kick his ass for you."

Although Brendon had been pretty much MIA, he was still his best friend and Frank hated to see him like this. Usually Brendon was so bubbly. Though with Dallon breathing down his neck –and now Ryan's- Brendon was mostly in a constant state of worry, concentrating on making sure Ryan didn't find out it was Dallon who had kissed him.

Now that they were ' _friends_ ', Brendon was terrified that Dallon would feed Ryan lies, obscuring the truth to turn his boyfriend against him.

"Thanks." Brendon smiled weakly, keeping his gaze fixed on his shoes. He leaned sideways and Frank enveloped him in a hug, running his fingers through Brendon's mop of brown hair.

Everyone else piled in to the classroom, including Mrs Wells, who seemed worn out from struggling through the crowded halls.

"What are you going to do?" Frank muttered quietly. "Do you want to talk about it after school?"

"I can't." Brendon mumbled, pulling away and sitting up straight. The lesson was about to start. "I'm meeting Ryan at his place."

"That's-"

He cut him off with a bitter tone, "And I swear to God if Dallon is gonna be there, I'm gonna cry."

Frank frowned. He felt bad for him and he wanted to comfort him, he did. But he had no idea how to show that on the outside. "I think you should tell Ryan who it was you kissed, and who initiated it first."

"Really?" He looked up at him with wide eyes, and a surprised expression.

"That way Dallon can't get to him first and you'll be telling the truth. He'll trust you a lot more than if he heard it from someone else." He paused as Mrs Wells called his name out on the register, replied "here!" then turned back to Brendon. "Plus, Dallon won't have anything held against you."

"True. . . It won't be an easy conversation."

"No. . ." Frank smiled comfortingly. "But it'll be worth it."

-

Luckily, throughout the lesson, Brendon had gradually cheered up. He had gone over what he would say to Ryan a thousand times, and each time Frank had listened, (they barely got any actual work done), so by the end, he was more confident in himself.

The bell rang for PE, causing Brendon and Frank to groan like it was the end of the world. At least, that was until Frank remembered he now got to spend this whole lesson with none other than his _cool art teacher_.

"Hey," Brendon nudged his shoulder with a confused look. "What are you grinning about?"

Instantly, Frank stopped, chewing on his lip. "Nothing." He slung his bag over his shoulder and snatched Brendon's up too, whilst Brendon piled their books with everyone else's. "I don't have to do PE anymore, that's all."

"Excuse me, _what_?" Brendon scowled playfully as he took his bag. "I can't believe you're ditching me. And in my time of need." He added, frowning.

They exited after everyone else, hovering by the top of the stairs as PE was down, art was up, and they weren't finished chatting yet.

"You'll live." Frank sighed, although he did feel a pang of guilt. "How about I ask if you can quit PE, too? I'm sure Ge-Mr Way will allow it."

He brushed over Frank's slip-up. "It's not just up to him, though, is it? Mr Wright is the head of art." Brendon whined, rolling his head back on his shoulders, glaring at the ceiling. "How do you know Mr Way would say yes, anyway?"

Frank replied with a slight smirk. "I'm obviously his favourite student."

"'Course you are." He snorted, patting Frank on the shoulder. "I'll see you later." He gave him one last smile before descending the stairs to hell.

-

As usual, Frank crept in to the art department, poking his head around the corner to search for Gerard. Closed blinds, paired with the dark sky, made the room quite dark. And because Mr Wright didn't have a class next door, Gerard clearly hadn't bothered to switch the lights on.

In case there was anyone in either of the classrooms that he couldn't see, he called out, "Mr Way?"

From the back of the classroom in the corner, a voice sounded. "Who is it?"

However, Frank squinted as he still couldn't see anyone. "Frank." He said, puzzled, walking further in to 169a. "Iero."

"Hey, Frank." Then he saw it. A mop of black and teal roots emerging from behind one of the tables, followed by hazel orbs and a pixie nose. Of course, Gerard was sat on the floor.

"What're you doing down there?"

"Sorting out these." He held up a handful of art text books. He furrowed his brows. "What are you dong up here?"

"Uhm." Frank fidgeted nervously, scared he'd gotten things mixed up or wrong. "You arranged for me to work up here this lesson instead of going to PE?"

"Oh," Gerard shuffled on his knees, placing the books on the table. "I forgot. I'm so sorry." A genuine expression of guilt washed over his features.

"No, it's okay." Frank waved a hand dismissively.

Hurriedly, Gerard slid the books on to the bottom shelf, then stood up to face him. His denim jacket was rolled up to his elbows (showing off the veins in his arms that stood out under his skin). He wore a black shirt (a change from white), a red tie, and skinny jeans with a partly studded belt, which seemed well-worn and years old.

Suddenly, Frank felt considerably more self-conscious and unattractive in his boring hoodie, band t-shirt, baggy jeans and scuffed up trainers –he had no doubt his hair was sticking up everywhere too. Another thought hit him: _I_ should not _be thinking about wanting to look attractive just for my art teacher._

A heat rose to his pale cheeks and he glanced away.

"I'm sorry." Gerard spoke again, walking over to where the art folders were stored.

By nature, Frank had wandering eyes and a curious mind. So when he noticed a purple and blue bruise just above Gerard's hip as his shirt moved when he stretched up, he grew concerned. Over the weeks that he'd known Gerard, there had always been some sort of bruise or mark painting his skin. At first, he'd brushed it off, but now he was concerned.

"Are you okay?" Frank asked softly, hoping he wasn't going to cross any boundaries or seem nosey.

"Of course." Gerard dug out Frank's folder, putting it at a table for him. "I look tired don't I?" He chuckled. "I've had a hectic photography class, that's all."

Sighing, Frank scratched at the zip on his hoodie just so he had something to do. "No. . . Like. . ." he had no idea how to phrase it. "Outside of. . . School."

"What do you mean?" A scared expression flashed on his face, though he quickly covered it with anger, eyes staring intently at Frank, like an interrogation light.

"Is everything okay with you?" Frank gulped audibly. "You-you know, at home?"

Taken aback, Gerard folded his arms across his chest. "I'm really sure that's none of your business." He scowled before walking to his desk. He refocused his attention to the computer screen, trying his best to not feel like a horrible human being for ignoring his student.

A few minutes passed and Frank remained there in silence, frequently glancing at Gerard, who's cold demeanour slowly softened. He didn't dare make a noise as he trudged to his art folder, quietly slipping his bag off his shoulders.

They continued to work together in utter silence. The only static noise being Gerard's typing and Frank's pencil scraping at the paper.

Eventually, with a long sigh, Gerard ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry."

Frank's head snapped up and he shot him a confused look. It was he who felt like he should have apologised, but hadn't had the courage to speak.

A slight smile tugging at his lips, Gerard rummaged in his desk drawer to bring out a packet of biscuits, holding them out as a peace offering. "Will you forgive me?"

Deciding to go with the playful option, he tried to keep a grin from showing. "Hm." Frank raised his eyebrows, tapping his chin as if it was the hardest decision in the world.

Pressing his lips in a thin line, Gerard cocked his head to the side. He knew he was messing around.

"I don't know."

"Really?" He shrugged. "I guess I better put these away then?"

"No." Frank whined, strolling over and taking two. The chocolate coating the biscuit instantly began to melt in his warm fingers. "I forgive you."

Gerard smiled.

"But," Frank fixed his eyes on the floor, shuffling on the spot. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to upset you. . . Will you forgive me?"

Gerard smiled again, however, this was a smile that reached his eyes and made them seem like they were made of golden glitter. "Of course."

[Published 27 August 2019]  
[Last edited 28 December 2019]


	15. Chapter 15

Finally, the goddamn day he'd been waiting for had arrived. Like any other teenager, he celebrated Halloween by watching horror films and stuffing his face full of sugar, though it was even more than that to Frank; it was his birthday.

Often, when he told people this, there were only two types of reactions he expected (and secretly hoped for): "That's so cool!" or something along the lines of "Satan's child." Honestly, it was ridiculous, but it made him laugh, so he chose not to mind.

However, this Halloween had been by far the most weirdest, yet wonderful, birthday he'd ever experienced -all thanks to Gerard.

-

To celebrate Halloween, the whole school was smothered in decorations. There were huge fake spiders hanging from the ceilings, spider webs draped over the doors and strung up the stairs; black and orange bunting was hanging from light to light; and there were Halloween stickers stuck on the windows. Frank never used the cafeteria, but he was sure there would be a Halloween themed menu.

In the art department, people had created 'spooky' drawings specifically for this day and stuck them to the walls. Frank was discussing them with Gerard before they'd had to stop because someone strolled in.

"Hello, princess." Brendon greeted with a wicked smirk, slumping in to a chair.

Furrowing his brows, he leaned back a little, narrowing his eyes at him sceptically. "What's happened? Why're you smiling like that?" Frank's eyes grew wide as Brendon only tilted his head down and looked at him maniacally through his hair.

" _Halloween_."

"Yes, well done." Frank said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He loved Brendon and his strangeness, but Gerard was sat at the desk and he felt rather awkward with him there while he was talking to another person. It was like he was an audience. "And?"

"It's your birthday!" Brendon grinned, slamming his hands down on the table.

Instantly, Frank leapt forwards, clapping a hand over Brendon's mouth. "Shh!"

Scowling, he licked his palm, causing Frank to grimace and pull back. "What?" He whispered, somewhat annoyed and confused. "Is it some big secret now?"

"Yes." He deadpanned, casting a quick glance at Gerard, who, luckily, seemed to be taking no notice of them, typing away furiously on the keyboard.

Huffing, Frank grabbed Brendon's hand, dragging him in to the middle room (they'd have to go in there soon, anyway, lunch was almost over and they had art next).

"Watch it." Brendon hissed, nearly tripping over his own bag. "What's the big deal?"

Frank shut the door, leaning back against it. It was nearly the end of the day, though he still had absolutely no energy to carry on. And honestly, he didn't want Gerard to know it was his birthday because -knowing Gerard- he'd want to get him something, or feel bad for not getting him anything in the first place.

This time, he caught his words before he spoke about their art teacher. "Mr Way is right there."

"So?"

Folding his arms across his chest, Frank opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He couldn't find a reason as to why he didn't want Gerard to know that didn't sound weird. Although he was his friend, he was still his teacher, and they both knew that people would find that odd.

Eventually, he let his arms drop and sighed, "It just is."

"Okay?" Brendon furrowed his brows before an excited expression overtook his features. "Anyway, guess what."

"There could be a _million_ different answers-"

He cut him off with an unamused glare. "I'm having a Halloween party at my house and I want you to come."

"A party?" What was remaining of Frank's limited confidence plummeted, his heart beginning to pound. "I-"

"I know you don't like parties." He said sympathetically, giving the most consoling smile he could muster. "But I really want you to come. I'll stay with you the whole time."

Admittedly, hearing that did help the slightest. "I. . ." He sighed. "You shouldn't have to miss everything because of me. You'd get bored."

"Please." Brendon took his hand, squeezing it gently.

Slowly, Frank shook his head.

Knowing what would catch his interest, he pressed his lips together in a small smirk. "What if I told you there's a present waiting for you at mine?"

"Well, maybe."

-

Practically bouncing off the walls, Frank tried not to let his internal joy show on the outside as he refrained from skipping to the art department. He'd seen Gerard merely an hour ago, though he was still happy to get to see him again.

Shoving the double doors open, he strolled in to 169a to see a familiar face -but it wasn't Gerard's. Halting dead in his tracks, Frank nearly tripped over his own feet. A heat rose to his cheeks and he gulped -sure it was louder than anything else in the room.

The teacher that was there in Gerard's usual place -Mr Wright- turned around, finding Frank's sudden burst in quite rude and not the sort of behaviour that should've been in school.

"Calm down, Frank." Mr Wright told him calmly, then refocused his attention back on the student's books he was sorting out.

Rubbing his eyes, Frank mentally cursed at himself, wishing he hadn't done that. He placed his bag on the floor. "Uhm," He took a deep breath, "Do you know where M-Mr Way is? Has he gone already?"

Shaking his head, he turned around. "I just passed him in the halls."

"Leaving?" Frank frowned, sighing deeply. "Where was he going? I need to talk to him." He noted the puzzled expression on Mr Wight's face, thinking he could have toned down his eagerness. "It's important."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

He shook his head.

"Is it anything I can help you with?"

Frank shook his head a second time. "I don't think so."

Collecting the books, Mr Wright sorted them neatly in to a carrier bag, then walked over to the doors, pausing to answer. "Last I saw him he was downstairs. . . I think he was heading to the back doors."

"Thank you." Frank muttered, gratefully.

Mr Wright exited, leaving him in a damp mood. Surely if he was heading to the doors, that meant he was going home? If that was the case, Frank no longer felt like stopping behind to do art.

Just as he was about to go, he caught sight of Gerard's denim jacket hung over the back of a chair, his bags dumped beside it. Frank smiled.

-

Because he no longer attended PE, Frank's physical fitness had decreased and he was surprised when he managed to leg it down the side stairs, past the music rooms and through the back doors.

It was awfully foggy outside, making anything more than 200 yards in front impossible to see. The most he could make out were the bleachers and a few bins dotted around the fields.

Glancing to the right, he found his art teacher leaning against the wall, his back to him. Gerard had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, some of it had become untucked and he wore a waist coat, jacket discarded upstairs. There was smoke creating a cloud around him and it was easy to figure out what he was doing.

" _Sir_." Frank gasped, clutching dramatically at his chest.

Startled, Gerard whipped around, snatching the cigarette from his chapped lips. Expecting to be told off, he took a deep breath.

"It's not good to smoke."

Relieved it was only Frank, he let the air out of his lungs in a coughing fit, placing the back of his hand over his mouth. His lips curled in to a half smile, "It's not good to creep up on people, either, but you did that, so let me enjoy my thing."

Raising his eyebrows, Frank cocked his head to the side. "I don't think you're allowed to do that on school grounds, anyway."

"Really?" His smile faltered and he took one last drag, blowing the smoke in to Frank's smug face.

Wafting at the air, he scowled playfully. "They didn't tell you?"

Thinking back, Gerard shook his head.

"I bet you're glad I came and not someone else."

Gerard tilted his head down, looking at Frank through his long lashes and tangled hair. "Why _did_ you come?"

"You weren't upstairs and Mr Wright said you might be down here."

"Oh, right," He smiled, "Then, yes, I'm glad." Gerard brushed his hair back, showing off the teal roots, as he tapped the end of the cigarette with his other hand. "I'm also glad you're here because I needed to tell you something important." His voice had taken a more serious tone.

"Oh," Frank grew nervous. "Yeah?"

Nodding, Gerard walked past him to bin his cigarette. Confused, Frank paused for a moment, then went to turn around. "About-"

He was cut off when Gerard caught him from behind, tackling him to a hug. His arms wrapped around him and Frank brought his hands up to hold on to them, his skin cold under his warm touch, sending a tingling feeling up his arms.

Gerard's hot breath tickled his neck as he whispered in to his ear, "Happy birthday, Frankie."

All Frank could do was laugh. "Thank you, Gee."

Gerard rested his head next to Frank's, closing his eyes. Their lips were so close, causing Frank's heart beat speed up. He tried not to think about how Gerard was pressed up against him and how his arms were holding him tightly. Everything felt so perfect, he practically melted in to his embrace, letting out a sigh of contentment.

Far to quickly for his liking, it was over. Albeit Gerard was a little reluctant to let go, too.

"Thank you." Frank murmured again, dropping his arms as Gerard released him, though he kept his hands on Frank's waist as he spun him around to face him, making Frank grin widely.

"No problem." He replied with a smile. Under the autumn sun, his eyes glowed and Frank may or may not have stared.

Then he furrowed his brows, casting his gaze to the side. "How did you know it was my birthday?"

Gerard raised his eyebrows.

"You heard?"

"Of course I heard." He smirked. "I have superhuman hearing. Plus, Brendon isn't exactly the quiet type, is he?"

"Not really." He chuckled.

"You know," He paused, "We have to celebrate your birthday. It's not fair you had to come in to school in the first place."

A blush crept up to his cheeks and he glanced away. "We really don't have to do anything. . ." Frank objected, although he was curious to what Gerard had in mind.

"I want to."

"Well," He took a breath, "What do you suggest?"

Biting his lip, which caught Frank's attention, as always, Gerard slowly moved his hands from Frank's hips and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. "The music rooms are vacant?"

Frank snorted. "We're gonna sing Halloween songs?"

"We are now." Gerard chuckled as he lead the way inside, opening the doors and propping it open for him with his foot.

"Really?" He couldn't help but grin at Gerard's manners.

"You said it." He tapped Frank on the nose, making him scrunch his face up in protest. "I was only going to suggest we mess around with the instruments and play Green Day songs. But you just made it better."

Irritatingly, his anxiety kicked in at the most inconvenient time, as usual. "What if we get caught?"

Clearly, Gerard had thought about this. "Technically, the rules are that you need to be supervised by a teacher." He pointed to himself. "Which you are. So, _really_ , we're not breaking any rules."

Raising his eyebrows with a smirk, Frank was pleasantly surprised at Gerard's current behaviour -perhaps it was just the Halloween spirit. Or it could have been the fact that Gerard was a little tipsy after adding alcohol to his morning coffee.

This time, Frank made an effort to beat Gerard to the door and held it open for him like he had done moments ago.

"Why, thank you." Gerard smiled, then his eyes travelled to where the guitars were being stored, automatically drawn to the old acoustic. "Hey, look."

Scratching the back of his head, Frank chuckled at how Gerard's eyes lit up like a kid's on Christmas. "You've never been in here before, have you?"

Picking up the guitar, Gerard shook his head, examining the craftsmanship. "What gave me away?"

He was about to strum the guitar when Frank rushed over, clamping his hands over the strings. He glanced up, his face dangerously close to Gerard's. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "You-you can't do that here."

Gerard sent him a confused look.

"We'll have to go in to the sound proof rooms." Frank explained, slowly straightening up, taking his hands off the strings.

Nodding, Gerard followed Frank, who shut the door behind them, plunging them in to darkness. Apparently, the blinds were closed.

"Where are the lights?"

"Don't ask me. I didn't even know this room existed."

Frank shrugged. "I guess we're playing in the dark, then?"

"Adds to the Halloween vibe." Gerard commented.

Just as Frank walked a little in to the room, he was about to outstretch his arms to feel his way around, when he bumped in to Gerard, who had his back to him. Now, Frank had just started to raise his arms, so when he walked in to Gerard, his hands hit his arse.

If Gerard could have seen how red his face was, he wouldn't have believed he was even a human being.

"Oh my God," Frank blurted out. "I'm so sorry." It was silent for a while, until he heard Gerard giggle, causing his heart to skip a few beats because it was the most adorable thing he'd ever heard.

"It's fine." He laughed. He had to put his hand over his mouth to shut himself up.

Although Gerard was finding it funny, Frank was mortified. "I didn't mean to do that." He apologised again.

"I told you, it's fine."

Currently, Frank was relieved they couldn't see each other because he was a flustered mess. Not quite sure how to move on, he settled for stepping back until he was flat against the wall, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He heard Gerard shuffling around, then it grew quiet.

"Hey, Frank?"

He did his best to keep his voice monotone. "Yeah?"

"Come here."

"Where's here?" He squinted in the dark, only just managing to see the outline of furniture.

Suddenly, causing him to let out a high pitched squeak, Gerard grabbed his wrist and pulled Frank towards him, though he lost his balance and knocked in to a nearby desk. Luckily, Gerard placed a hand on his chest to steady him before he fell.

"You know," Gerard said, hopping up to sit on the desk. "This _playing music in the dark_ thing isn't such a good idea."

Frank laughed faintly. He could only just see Gerard's silhouette, so he jumped up on to the table next to him, their shoulders brushing together.

Even though he'd known him for some time now, Frank got this new-found fluttery feeling in his chest whenever he saw him, or whenever they touched, or whenever they were close. Honestly, it annoyed him because he couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he loved the rush it gave him.

Frank looked down at his hands. "Guess what I've noticed."

Gerard glanced over. "What?"

"You have absolutely no regard for furniture."

Gerard snorted, running his fingers through his hair. "What?"

"You never sit on a chair. It's always a table. Well, unless you're teaching in class and you have to."

"Life is too short to sit where you're supposed to." He snickered, receiving a deadpan glare.

"That is the worst excuse ever." Frank laughed regardless, realising he seemed to be doing that a lot today. Soon, he was sure his ribs would start to ache.

" _Anyway_ ," Gerard waved a hand dismissively, shrugging his shoulders, "Do you know any Halloween songs?"

Frank opened his mouth to speak, but ended up just looking like a fish out water.

"No?"

"Wow." He said in disbelief. "Celebrated Halloween my entire life and I can't even think of any songs. My _birthday_ is on Halloween for God's sake."

"Green Day, then?" He adjusted his fingers on the strings, propping up the guitar on his thigh. "Or a different song from a band we both might know? Any requests?"

"Uhm. . ." Frank swung his legs back and forth off the edge of the table, chewing the inside of his mouth. He didn't like the possibility of suggesting a band Gerard hated. Though a smile spread across his face when he remembered that they both liked The Smiths. "How about Hang the DJ?"

"The Smiths?" Gerard nodded. "Good Choice." Fringe falling over his eyes, he began to play the intro. Though he tensed a little when he kept screwing up, however he was determined and just had to get used to the chords again. It'd been a while since he'd played guitar. "I'm sorry." He sighed, tucking his wild hair behind his ears.

"It's okay." Frank said softly. "How about if you play something that you're familiar with?"

"Well. . ." He sighed, tapping his foot. "Do you know Sisters of Mercy?"

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "No, but I'm sure I'll like whatever you play. We have similar music tastes so far -from what I can tell."

"True," Gerard bit his lip, turning his head to face Frank. "But it's your birthday, so I wanted you to choose the song."

Leaning back a little, Frank furrowed his brows. He could smell a tinge of alcohol on his breath. Obviously, he wanted to know why and how. Although it was only by a year, Gerard wasn't even old enough to drink yet. Pushing that thought to the back of his mind, just as he had done with Brendon's upcoming party, he shrugged. "In that case, I request a song by Sisters of Mercy."

"Ha, ha. Well played." Gerard scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yup."

Gerard hummed in confirmation as he adjusted the guitar on his lap and his fingers on the strings. "Last chance."

"Go on." Frank groaned, nudging him in the ribs. "Just play."

-

Frank had almost forgotten how beautiful Gerard's voice was. It sent chills through his bones. For this particular song, his voice was low and husky.

During the song, Frank had unintentionally leaned closer and closer until he had his head resting on Gerard's shoulder and he was practically slouched with his full weight against him.

Honestly, in the dark room with Gerard's singing, Frank had trouble staying awake. He barely even noticed when the music faded.

"Frank?" Gerard whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, I thought you were asleep." He chuckled lightly, carefully propping the guitar up by the table.

"I love your voice." Frank murmured, absentmindedly tracing lines up and down Gerard's forearm, causing him to shiver. "It's so pretty."

"Thank you." Gerard said quietly, looking down at how Frank had one hand wrapped around his wrist, and the other outlining patterns on his skin. "That tickles, you know."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He stopped, letting go.

"I didn't say it was bad," Gerard said. "But we really should get going."

"Right, yeah." Frank yawned, stretching his back as he stood up. "What was the song you were singing called?"

"When You Don't See Me." He replied, grabbing the guitar, slowly making his way to where he guessed the exit was.

The minute he got home, Frank knew was going to search up the song to download it on his phone. But, he knew the original wasn't going to be half as good as when Gerard sang it.

-

"Thank you, again." Frank beamed, using his art as an excuse not to look at him. If he did, he feared he'd explode with happiness.

Gerard chuckled shyly, glancing up from the work he was marking. "You're welcome. . . But you don't have to keep thanking me."

"I do." He said seriously, pressing his lips in to a fond grin. Mostly, because he couldn't get over the fact Gerard had done something like that for him.

"Oh, I forgot to ask." Gerard put his pen down, resting his head on his hand as he kept his gaze focused on Frank's eyes. "How old are you today?"

Raising his eyebrows, he cocked his head to the side.

"Come on, tell me." Gerard pestered when Frank remained silent. "You know how old I am."

"True." Frank sighed, folding his arms on the desk and leaning forwards. "I'm eighteen."

"Congratulations." He smiled. "You are now an adult." Carding his fingers through his hair, he sighed. "Fair warning: it sucks."

"Really?" Frank frowned, casting his eyes over to him. "Can't be that bad, can it?"

Gerard hummed, eyes flickering at the clock (4:54), a hint of worry in them. "I'll let you be the judge of that. Though don't let me put a damper on your big day."

Shaking his head, Frank tucked his long hair behind his ears. "You couldn't do that. . . What _could_ is that Brendon invited me to a party later and I don't really want to go."

"Oh," Gerard smirked. "You know what that means, right?"

He furrowed his brows. "What?"

"Underage drinking. . . Among other things."

"Oh," A blush rose to his cheeks and he turned away, staring intently at the wall. "I'm not that sort of person."

Gerard noticed the red that stood out against his pale complexion and he smiled faintly. "I didn't think you were."

[Published 2 September 2019]  
[Last edited 16 November 2019]


	16. Chapter 16

Lately, Frank had been staying in after school to see Gerard, completely ignoring his work. Maybe it was a bit ridiculous – _staying to hang out with his art teacher_ \- but it was the only socialising he actually did. Plus, he reckoned his life would be so much more boring without him.

Sadly, it was Wednesday, and he hadn't seen Gerard at all as he hadn't been there in the morning and he hadn't had a single lesson of art. Truthfully, the main thing that'd been getting him through the day was knowing that that idiot's teal roots, pixie nose and pink-lipped smile was going to greet him when the school day was over.

Instead of paying attention in class, Frank had been revaluating why Gerard had become to mean so much to him. Honestly, the mere idea of having a _crush_ on his _art teacher_ terrified him. Also, he didn't have anyone to share this possibility with, so he couldn't exactly grab a hold of how stupid it was.

A whole day's thinking had gotten him to a narrowed down point: he only liked Gerard _that way_ because he was lonely; they were simply misplaced feelings because Gerard was the only one that had shown him any affection. Anyway, that's what he tried to tell himself.

Finally, the bell shrieked, causing Frank to nearly jump out of his skin. He'd been dazed and hadn't fully registered that it was the end of the day. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his things, then made his way up to the art department.

Upon reaching the doors, Frank hesitated.

For the first time, he wasn't totally sure he wanted to stay. He didn't want his feelings to be confirmed. Though he had been avoiding his art assignments recently.

Grinding his lip ring between his teeth, he held his breath and edged through a narrow gap in the double doors. He trudged in to 169a, finding Gerard sat on one of the tables, absorbed in his work.

Frank smiled. _Typical_ , he thought. That fluttery feeling flared in his chest, making his blood pound in his ears. Shaking his head, he attempted to just ignore it. _It wasn't real_.

"You're like a child." Frank chuckled, dumping his bag and coat.

Startled, Gerard's eyes snapped up, a scowl flashing across his features. When he saw it was Frank, it disappeared, replaced with a smile. "You _are_ a child."

"I am not." He huffed. "As of yesterday, I officially turned eighteen."

"Ah, yes, but did your maturity turn eighteen?" Gerard retorted, raising his eyebrows, a smirk tugging at his lips. He closed the student's book he was marking, tossing it to the side to focus all his attention on his favourite student.

Admittedly quite shocked, Frank stood there with his mouth hanging open. "How dare you?"

"Quite easily." He sassed. Carding his fingers through his hair, Gerard slid off the table, adjusted the collar on his denim jacket, then walked to stand in front of Frank, who was still gaping at him –a little overdramatically. "Do you need help with that?"

"What?" He blinked.

"Containing your surprise at how witty my comebacks are."

Frank scoffed, hanging his head to hide his smile. "No."

Cocking his head to the side, Gerard hooked his thumbs through his belt loops as he slowly walked back to his desk. "You know, you've been slacking?"

"Yeah," he sighed, averting his gaze to the floor. "I know."

"And. . . What're you going to do about it?"

"Stay back after school to do it?" Frank replied innocently, rocking back and forth on his heels as he clasped his hands behind his back to stop himself from fidgeting.

"You already do that."

"I'll stay even later."

Giving a deadpan expression, Gerard rolled his eyes. "Come on, Frank, I can't ask you to stay even later, I'd feel guilty. But, what I can ask is that you try to concentrate, okay?" He reasoned as he fetched Frank's folder off the shelf, handing it to him. "I hate to get all teacher-y, but you do have two lots to complete."

Sighing, Frank tucked his hair behind his ears. "Don't remind me." He dug out his pencil case, slumping in to a seat at the desk closest to Gerard's. He reluctantly opened his art folder, flicking towards the piece he was working on last: a picture of Brendon smiling. A wave of sadness washed over him as he remembered the fun they'd had doing that photoshoot.

Sure, he saw Brendon yesterday at the party, but it hadn't gone very well.

"Hey," Gerard said softly, noticing he was slightly off today. "Are you okay?"

The last thing he needed was to cry in front of Gerard –and it was over something so small. Rubbing his tired eyes before any tears could surface, he nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

He didn't buy it. Logging on to the computer, he connected it to the smartboard, then shot a glance at Frank, who looked up on cue. "How about some music to cheer you up?"

A smile spread across his face. Frank couldn't believe how goddamn kind this man was. "You don't have to do anything. . . I said I'm alright."

"Still." Gerard raised his eyebrows slightly. "Music is good any time." He rested his chin in his hand, switching his gaze between the screen and Frank. "Any requests?"

"Uhm. . ." He bit his lip, fiddling with the zip of his hoodie. "Do you know Palaye Royale?"

Gerard shook his head, beginning to type it in to YouTube.

"I only heard of them last week, they're pretty cool." He shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the screen to start to finish his drawing.

"If you like them, I probably will too."

"Yeah, they're kind of old fashioned, I think. I love their style."

Clicking on the first music video that popped up (Nervous Breakdown), Gerard raised his eyebrows. "What a great title."

"I know, right." Frank snorted. "Very relatable."

The introduction to the song blasted through the speakers, causing Gerard to mutter a string of profanities as it was extremely loud. Hastily, he turned the volume down, casting a glance at Frank. "You don't think we'll get told off for that, do you?"

Eyes still a little wide from that jolt that seemed to do the trick of finally waking him up properly, he slowly shook his head. "Hopefully not."

"Hopefully?"

He pressed his lips in to a thin line, eyes flickering to the doors. "I'd switch it off for a bit, just in case anyone comes to investigate."

"Right. I'm sorry there'll be no music after all." Gerard mumbled, running his fingers through his hair. He let out a deep breath, closed the tab, then shuffled over to see how Frank was getting on. "What do you think you can get done today?" He sent Frank a look to silently ask if it was okay that he inspect his work, to which the student nodded.

"This sketch, if I'm lucky." He sighed. "I can't get the perspective right."

"Want any help?" Gerard took a seat beside him, sitting on it cross legged.

"Yes, please." He slid it towards him, nibbling at his lip ring. At that moment, Gerard glanced over, and he got very slightly distracted by it, causing his gaze to travel down from Frank's eyes to his lips. Luckily, Frank had his attention focused on the drawing, so he didn't notice.

Shaking his head, Gerard cleared his throat, going back to the drawing. "You know," He tried to keep his tone level, "If you gridded it, it would be easier."

Sighing, Frank fixed his stare on Gerard's veiny hands, watching as he effortlessly sketched what Frank couldn't. "I know, I did it with the others."

"You couldn't be bothered doing it this time?"

"Nope." He popped the 'p'. He tiled his head, shuffling closer to get a better view of what Gerard was doing. "You're really good at art." He murmured, that fluttery feeling flaring in his chest when their shoulders touched and Gerard's tangled hair tickled his cheek.

"I should hope so." Gerard chuckled. "I am an art teacher."

"Yeah," Frank sighed deeply. "You're a teacher."

Just as Gerard opened his mouth to answer, the doors swung open, a crowd of girls emerging. Their heads snapped up at the same time, both wondering what was happening.

"Hello." Gerard furrowed his brows.

Anxiety weaved its way in to Frank's mind and he moved away, keeping his head down as he pretended he was engulfed in his assignment. Hopefully, they'd leave soon. He hated being around other people; they just made his self-consciousness soar, including the constant worry that they were judging him.

"Can we stay behind to catch up on our art?" One of the girls spoke up, placing her handbag on the table next to where they were sat.

 _No_. Frank immediately thought.

"Sure." Gerard returned the pencil he'd been using, abandoning Frank to get all of the girl's folders down from the shelf.

 _Damn_.

If he was fortunate, they wouldn't stay long –he prayed they wouldn't stay long. Even if they left at half four, allowing themselves forty five minutes, he and Gerard would only get half an hour alone. Frank knew how selfish, and probably pathetic, he was being, but he didn't exactly care.

Gerard disappeared for a good twenty minutes, helping each individual with their assignment before he came back. Frank stared at him as he took a chair beside him again. "I hope they don't think this is an afterschool club." He seethed quietly.

"Frank," Gerard rolled his eyes, though he understood his worry. "I can't stop them from coming."

"You can." He grinned cheekily. "It'd just be rude."

"Frank."

"At least ask them to quieten down?" He swallowed the lump in his throat, becoming more and more uncomfortable in their presence.

"Of course."

-

At last, after what seemed like ages, they left. It'd been a bit later than Frank had anticipated, and they'd stayed until ten to five –mostly chatting and ignoring what they were supposed to be doing.

Frank had been listening to music through his headphones, which had been embarrassing when he'd switched it on because it announced, very loudly, "power on." Frank's face had burned bright red and it was all he thought about the entire time.

To add to his dreary day, Gerard had spent the entire duration with the girls; basically doing their work for them. Gerard wasn't stupid and he knew they were making excuses as to why they couldn't do it and why they needed help, but he did it anyway. It'd been a lot easier than if he'd chosen to argue with them. Plus, Gerard was too kind for his own good.

The second they left, Frank let out a deep breath, relaxing, slouching in his chair as he removed his headphones. "Thank God." He muttered.

"Glad?" Gerard guessed, tidying away their folders that they'd carelessly strewn out.

"Yup."

"Me too." Frowning, he sorted through their work. "For how long they were here, they didn't seem to do much."

Frank's lips curled in to a sarcastic smile, "That's because you did it for them."

Sighing, Gerard shot him a deadpan glare. "Not all of it. . ."

Twisting in his chair to face him fully, Frank raised his eyebrows. "Come on, Gee."

"I know." He shoved them back on the shelf, almost tripping over his own feet as he stretched up. Balancing himself again, he re-tucked his shirt in to his jeans, a faint blush blooming on his cheeks.

To save him any embarrassment, Frank pretended he didn't notice. "You're too nice to be a teacher."

"Well," Gerard chewed his lip, sliding his hands in to his back pockets. "I don't want them to hate me."

"They wouldn't hate you." Frank said automatically, offering a small smile. "Every teacher shouts, it's pretty much expected."

Gerard's mind travelled back to the amount of incidents where Bert had yelled at him –sometimes even for nothing, or when he needed to let his anger out and Gerard happened to be there. Consequently, he grew frightened when someone raised their voice, and he didn't want to spark that fear in to any of his students.

It fell silent, and Frank sensed something was wrong. "Hey, Gee." He stood up, walked over and debated on whether giving him a hug was inappropriate or not –they'd done it before. "They wouldn't hate you. You know that, right?" Hesitantly, he took a step closer, tilting his head so he could see past the curtain of hair that was currently shielding Gerard's eyes. "Even if they did, you'd still have me."

Gerard chuckled, peering at him through his lashes. "Really?"

"Obviously." Frank wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in for a hug –because he'd decided he didn't care if it was unsuitable.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned in to Frank's chest, burying his head in the crook of his neck. "Thank you." He hummed contently. "You always cheer me up."

Frank didn't know what so say. He just smiled delightedly, closing his eyes as he brought a hand up to absentmindedly run his fingers through Gerard's hair.

The last time Frank had done that, it'd had an effect on Gerard. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he adored having his hair pulled or played with. It always sent shivers down his spine.

Breathing in, Gerard whispered, quite reluctantly, "Don't do that."

Furrowing his brows, Frank continued anyway, only slower. "Why not?"

Now it was Gerard's go to try and think of an answer that wasn't inappropriate. Unluckily, after a few minutes, he couldn't think of one. He certainly wasn't going to say something along the lines of: _because it turns me on_. So instead, he just moved back, cheeks blooming pinkish.

Frank let his hands drop back to his sides, stuffing them in the pockets of his hoodie.

Gerard scratched the back of his neck nervously, avoiding eye contact like his life depended on it. "It's getting late." He cleared his throat, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he suddenly felt hot.

Frank nodded. "The fact it gets dark at like half four makes it seem even later." He began to gather his things, while Gerard logged off the computer and snatched up his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder.

"True," he shrugged, "But I love the dark."

"Makes sense." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he cleared away his folder, grabbing his own bag.

Confused, Gerard mulled it over, walking towards the doors, where he held one open for Frank, who ducked past, but pivoted on his heel to face him, clearly amused.

Gerard still didn't get it. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Frank began, "You're pale, you have black hair and you love the dark; you're a vampire."

Gerard scoffed, shoving him playfully with his shoulder. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. Vampires are rad."

They ventured through the halls in a comfortable silence, descending the stairs to the exit. Occasionally, they'd pass a member of staff and try to make it seem like they weren't together as friends.

At the main doors, Gerard held them open again. "After you."

"Why, thank you." Frank laughed, stepping out in to the dark. He breathed in the crisp air, the cold reaching his lungs. "I love it when it's like this. . . I love November."

A fond smile on his lips, Gerard watched as Frank stared up at the stars, a wide smile on his face, too. Then he remembered. "Oh," He gasped suddenly, "I forgot to ask: how was the party yesterday?"

Frank's posture sagged noticeably and all the memories of last night came racing back to him like a car on steroids. "Awful." He groaned, screwing his eyes shut.

"What happened. . ?" He questioned cautiously. The last thing he wanted to do was upset him. "Unless you don't want to talk about it. . ."

"No, it's fine." He dug his palms in to his eyes until he saw colourful sparkles. "I just. . . I hate parties, so I don't know why I went in the first place. It was loud, crowded and everyone was-" He paused, glancing at Gerard from the corner of his eye –not too sure he could say.

"Drunk?" Gerard finished. "You can tell me, I'm really not going to rat anyone out."

"Then, yes, they were drunk -I didn't have anything, though. . . Smells, and probably tastes, disgusting." Frank said quietly, searching for Gerard's reaction as he knew he liked to drink. "It can make you ill, too." He added tentatively. "My mum drinks, but I don't like it, so sometimes I hide it from her."

"Bad idea. Never mess with a person's buzz." Gerard chuckled, almost reaching to take Frank's hand as they walked to his car, but instantly yanked it back, reminding himself that Frank wasn't his boyfriend, he wasn't Bert. "I see why you do it, though. You care."

Frank nodded, shivering in the bitter wind. He realised they were now at Gerard's car and stopped. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh," He glanced around to see if there were any other people, "Do you want a lift home?"

"No, it's okay." He didn't want to be a bother. Gerard already did a lot for him, sometimes without even knowing. "I like walking home in the dark –as long as no one kidnaps me."

"I hope they don't." Gerard unlocked the car, chucked his bag on the passenger's side, then leaned on the car door as he smiled at Frank, who's heart did a flip. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He waved as he turned to leave. "See you later."

[Published 16 September 2019]  
[Last edited 16 November 2019]


	17. Chapter 17

There were lots of great features of winter, yet high winds and rain were not appreciated. Especially by Frank, who'd had to battle his way through the streets on his way to school. He wasn't the strongest person, and he was a pretty light weight, so he got flown to the building by the wind. That bit was quite fun, yet annoying, because more than three times he'd almost tripped over.

Additionally, his long hair was a mess, a complete bird's nest by the time he arrived. He tried to flatten it out as he walked to the art department, but it was barely any use.

Gerard couldn't wipe the smirk off his face when he saw Frank's dishevelled state. "Bad weather outside?"

Rolling his eyes, Frank replied with the best of his sarcastic abilities. "It's actually quite sunny. No clouds, no rain. It's great."

Taking pity on the fact Frank was drenched, water dripping off the end of his little pink nose, Gerard helped him out of his coat, which was difficult as the soaking wet material clung to his skin. When they'd finally managed, he draped the coat over the radiator to try and dry it off.

"This sucks." Frank muttered bitterly, wrapping his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to warm up. He only had on a thin t-shirt; obviously when he woke up this morning the radiators had tricked him in to thinking it wasn't freezing.

"Please don't catch hypothermia."

"I'll try not to." He let out a short laugh, teeth clattering together as he couldn't stop shivering.

Gerard paused for a moment, biting his lip as he came up with an idea. Preparing himself for the chilly air, he shrugged off his corduroy jacket. "Here," He wrapped it around a confused Frank's shoulders. "Take my jacket."

"What?" He furrowed his brows. "No." He shook his head, trying to take it off to give it back, but Gerard kept his hands on Frank's shoulders so he couldn't. "I can't take this."

"You're not taking it, you're borrowing it."

"Still." He huffed. "You're going to be cold and I don't want it to be because you're too damn kind to think of yourself for once. Take it back, Gee."

"Listen," He snaked his arms around his waist, resting his chin near the collar of Frank's shirt. "I'm willingly lending you my jacket for you to wear so you don't freeze to death, okay?"

There had been someone speaking, Frank knew that, but he barely registered it because Gerard had rendered him speechless once again with all the physical contact he was gifting him with. Holding his breath, all he could think about were Gerard's arms around his waist. Honestly, it was getting ridiculous, he froze every time they touched, but he couldn't help it.

"Frank?"

Blinking hard, he snapped back to reality. "Yeah?"

"You okay?" Gerard chuckled, eyebrows knitted together with slight worry. He let go and Frank instantly stepped away, turning around to face him with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He bit his lip, shoving his hands in the pockets of Gerard's jacket. "Won't people know this is yours?"

"Unless they've memorized what I wear, I don't think so."

"What if you have a creepy stalker and they have actually memorised what you wear?" He raised his eyebrows.

Rolling his eyes, Gerard raked his fingers through his knotted hair, staring down at his boots. "Then I'll be surprised that someone has taken an interest in me."

Frank's smile slowly faded and he frowned, a wave of pity washing towards him. He felt the urge to hug him and never let go because those words just gave him an insight to how Gerard felt and what his life must be like, and it saddened him. At a loss for words, he reached out to comfort him, but Gerard had a forced smile on his face and carried on as if he'd said nothing.

"Come on." He took Frank's arm, beginning to roll up the sleeve. "This is huge on you."

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he snorted. "You're only like an inch taller than me."

"I know, but I like oversized clothes, and this is an extra-large." A redness tinted his cheeks as he smiled at what he was going to say next. "You do look adorable, though."

The jacket ended just above Frank's knees, the sleeves hiding his hands completely. His huge pale brown eyes reflected the light in his curious gaze. This, paired with his soft, fluffy hair, made him look like an innocent little puppy.

Instantly, Frank blushed, tilting his head forwards as he tried to keep a straight poker face, though the blush creeping up his neck didn't help. That feeling fluttered in his chest as if his heart were a manic butterfly. "You-you think so?"

"I wouldn't have said it otherwise."

Audibly, he swallowed the lump in his throat, "Thank you."

-

During fourth period art, Frank had insisted on returning the jacket, claiming he wasn't cold anymore, but Gerard had argued with the fact that Frank's cheeks were still red. Of course they were, but it was more from the embarrassment than the cold.

Although he felt weird wearing it, admittedly he loved that it just _smelled_ like Gerard; coffee and cigarettes. If he hadn't been worried about people judging him, he would have hugged the jacket to his chest with his nose buried in it all day. Truthfully, he knew it sounded ridiculous, but it was like holding a piece of Gerard and it comforted him.

At the end of the seventh period, he didn't feel like handing it back anymore, so when he walked to the art rooms, he took his sweet time, zipping it up and pulling the sleeves down so it completely engulfed him.

The moment he opened the door, a booming voice came echoing through, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. Eyes wide, he peered in to 169a to discover it was Mr Knight's voice he'd heard.

Frank's fear further soared as his gaze landed on Gerard, who had the most frightened expression on his face while Mr Knight practically screamed at him. Any ordinary person probably wouldn't have been able to tell Gerard was afraid as he was keeping a steadily calm demeanour. However, Frank knew him well and noticed the way Gerard's eyes were slightly wide, the thin layer of sweat coating his skin, and the way his hands were held tightly by his sides.

Then Gerard's eyes darted to Frank, lips parted as he clearly didn't want anyone witnessing this.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." Mr Knight demanded, rudely snapping his fingers in front of Gerard's face.

"Sorry, sir." He gulped quite loudly, feeling ten inches tall under the towering height of Mr Knight.

Before Mr Knight turned around to see what Gerard had been distracted by, Frank slipped next door in to 169b. Honestly, he thought Gerard was being treated like a child, but he didn't dare question Mr Knight as he was the most terrifying teacher in the school.

Eventually, Mr Knight left, and as soon as the coast was clear, Frank wandered cautiously in to 169a, mentally debating on whether to actually stand on the tips of his toes.

Gerard was slumped against the wall, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes half lidded.

"Hey," Frank said softly.

Gerard glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but didn't move or speak.

"Are you alright?" He bit his lip, hoping he wasn't going to make things worse.

No answer. Gerard just blinked hard, fixing his gaze to the lights above. After that explosion, he needed a moment to recover.

"What," He paused, quietly putting his things by the door. "What was all that about. . ?"

At last, he gathered the strength to explain. "I-" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I, uhm, I forgot to-to set the dates for your mock exams." He desperately tried to keep his tone level, but his voice cracked and he feared he would to. Being yelled at like that brought back awful memories and feelings, and he was doing everything he could not to seem utterly pathetic.

Frank tried to think of a million ways to console him because it looked like Gerard was about to burst in to tears, scream, or both. "They've expected you to do a lot in your first time teaching. . . It's-"

Digging the heels of his palms in to his eyes, Gerard shook his head. "These are-these are your mock exams, Frank, it's a big deal."

"I-"

"The deadline was yesterday and I missed it. Which means now we'll have to have the slots that are left. They could clash with other exams you have. This is going to take even longer for everyone, and it's all my fault." He rambled on, scraping his fingers through his hair anxiously. He began pacing, trying to calm himself down, but it wasn't working at all. "God, I'm so stupid."

Shaking his head, Frank stepped forwards, putting a stop to Gerard's strides, almost crashing in to him. "You're not stupid." He tucked Gerard's hair behind his ears, then curled his fingers around his hands to bring them down from tugging on his hair."You were just given a lot of classes to handle and a lot of work to do for your first time teaching, you're bound to make mistakes sometimes."

"But this is a big mistake." He frowned, avoiding eye contact, which was hard as they were stood quite close.

"Then I'll even help you if you need, yeah?" He offered, doing his best to aid the situation in any way possible. "I know it won't be much. . . But it'll work out alright." He offered a smile, squeezing Gerard's hands reassuringly.

Slowly composing himself, Gerard nodded, taking a deep breath.

Really, Frank didn't care if all the time they spent together made him fall for Gerard even harder than he already seemed to be, but he didn't exactly care. Crushes never last, so neither was this thing he had for his art teacher.

"Come here." Frank muttered softly, enveloping him in a hug. He went to run his fingers through Gerard's hair, but he remembered he'd told him not to last time. Instead, he settled his hands just above Gerard's hips, resting his chin on his shoulder as Gerard buried his head in Frank's chest.

"Thank you." Gerard mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric of Frank's clothes -or rather, Gerard's own jacket.

"I do mean it." He chuckled. "I'll try to help."

"You really don't have to." Hesitantly, he pulled back, shaking his head. "You have a lot of work and revising to complete, too."

"I want to." He suddenly felt very aware that his hands were resting on Gerard's hips and he moved them to hang awkwardly at his sides. He forced a nervous smile. "What can I do to cheer you up?"

"Oh, it's fine." Gerard rubbed his eyes, squeezing them shut. "It's a Friday, you can go home if you want." He wrapped his arms around himself, darting his eyes to the window. He felt the heat of Frank's stare on him and he would have met his gaze if he hadn't have felt so damn self-conscious. He always seemed to feel this way around Frank; always wondering what Frank was going to think of him. "I don't want to keep you here."

"It's okay, I like being here." He said quietly, quickly regretting his words in case the feelings weren't mutual. Locking those doubts in the corner of his mind, Frank took a deep breath. "Come on." He took Gerard by the shoulders, guiding him to a desk and in to a chair. "Sit down while I feed you biscuits."

Gerard giggled, at which Frank's heart skipped a beat, making him smile, because it was the cutest noise in the world.

Rummaging through the drawers, Frank located the biscuits, then pulled up a chair and sat next to Gerard, making sure they were a decent distance apart. He couldn't cope with any more butterflies devouring his insides.

"I wish it was always like this." Gerard murmured thoughtfully, picking out a biscuit, eating it slowly to allow the chocolate to melt in his mouth.

"Like what?"

"Peaceful, you know?" He sighed. "Everything is always so loud."

Frank remained silent, listening to the hum of the computers, the distant footsteps of staff preparing to go home, the harsh winds outside, and their steady breathing.

They stayed there for a while, enjoying each other's company and nibbling at chocolate digestives until Gerard huffed, getting up from his seat. "I have to get these dates sorted." He slouched at the desk, wishing for them to magically be done.

Pressing his lips in to a thin line, Frank nodded, "I have to get my art sorted."

Glancing up from the screen, their eyes met, both of their expressions melting in to a fond smile. "Music?" Gerard asked, already knowing the answer.

"Music."

[Published 24 September 2019]  
[Last edited 18 November 2019]


	18. Chapter 18

On Friday, Gerard had worked his ass off to get the dates completed, with help from Frank, who had given him his timetable so he could figure out what times would be best. They weren't sure if the slots would be right for other people, but they were set according to Frank's schedule and that's all they'd had to work with.

Now, on Monday, Gerard was fretting over it, constantly glancing at the screen for an email from Mr Knight confirming the dates. Or rather, he hoped it would be an email and they wouldn't have to communicate in person.

And, of course, by the time fifth period rolled around and Gerard had just gotten the riot of a class settled, his phone rang -quite loudly. All heads in the room turned to him and he glanced at them from the corner of his eye.

"You're not allowed phones in class." One of the students pointed out, raising their eyebrows at Gerard, who raised an eyebrow back.

"No," He smiled, " _You're_ not allowed phones in class." He stood up, retrieving his phone from his back pocket. "I'm a teacher."

"That's not fair!" They whined, a chorus of numerous other voices following after.

"Quiet." He flashed a scowl at them. "Get on with your work." As the students reluctantly settled down, all glowering at him, he left the room without another word, checked the hallway was clear, then answered the call.

He knew it was very irresponsible, leaving a class full of angst-y teens alone without supervision, but the person who was calling was really important to him. He just hoped no one would catch him abandoning a lesson to chat on the phone.

"Hey."

"Hiya, Mikes." Gerard smiled, glad to hear his brother's voice again. It'd been a while.

"I'm sorry I haven't called, there's a lot going on."

"No, it's okay." He waved a hand dismissively even though Mikey couldn't see. "How've you been? How's Ray?"

"Ray is. . . Preoccupied. He's only on five-ninety an hour, it's his first year, so that's expected, but they've got him doing a lot of shit for such a small amount of money."

"At least he seems to be doing well, isn't he?" Gerard tried to lighten the mood. "I mean, if they've got him doing a lot, it must mean he's a good worker."

"I guess. . ."

"Which means it'll lead to something bigger soon, I'm sure."

"You're too upbeat," Mikey chuckled. "I don't get how you are all the time."

Shaking his head, Gerard brushed off the subject, "So, how're you doing? Found a job?"

"Yeah," He huffed. "But it's rubbish."

"Oh," He frowned. "Why?"

"The only thing I could find in New York was this retail job. All I do is stack shelves and confirm orders." Mikey took a deep breath, rolling his eyes. "I might actually _die_ of boredom."

"Can't mum and dad help?"

"In what way? They're already giving us money, I don't want to ask for anything else. They're not exactly rich, either."

"True." Gerard chewed the inside of his cheek, tapping his foot anxiously on the floor. He glanced in to the classroom to check on the students, who seemed to be having paper ball fights and chucking various other items across the room. He'd have to get in there soon, but he wanted to talk to his brother. "I'll help you."

"No, G-"

"I can, I'll send some money your way."

"You barely have any more than I do." Mikey stated. "Maybe even less."

"Don't worry about me; you're in a more dire situation that I am."

"Don't work yourself too hard." He said sternly. "I swear to God, Gerard. Promise me."

"I'm not going to. Promise."

"It's because you already are, isn't it?"

"No, now drop it." Gerard snapped, quickly scanning the halls to make sure no one heard, or was coming. "You're my baby brother, and I'm going to look after you. It's my job, whether you like it or not."

A long sigh came from the other end of the line.

"I have to go, I'm sorry."

"Did I call you at a bad time?"

"Uhm." Gerard peered in to the classroom, discovering that they were now making paper aeroplanes to fly at each other. "No."

"Call me later."

"I will," Gerard said quickly, even though he meant it. "Goodbye, Mikes." Hastily, he hung up, returned his phone to his back pocket, then hurried back to the lesson. He marched in so fast that he pushed the door harder than intended and it whacked in to the wall. Luckily, though, it startled the students and they all turned to look at him.

Their silence didn't last long as they all went back to misbehaving seconds later.

Sighing deeply, Gerard glared, ripping a paper aeroplane out of a student's hand before they had time to throw it. He was never one for shouting, but he looked bloody scary when he did.

"Enough!" He yelled, dumping the paper in the bin. He pointed at one of the students, who was stood on their chair, and motioned for them to sit down with sharp gestures. "I have had it with this goddamn class. Now, you're going work in silence, and anyone who has a problem with that can file a complaint to Mr Knight. Understand?"

A few of them nodded, the rest statues in their seats.

Although Gerard was afraid of Mr Knight, it didn't mean he had issue sending anyone else to be yelled at by him.

Thankfully, it seemed to do the trick and for the next forty minutes they all worked in silence. There were occasional whispers, but Gerard honestly couldn't be bothered shouting at them again.

-

By the time seventh period approached, Frank was bounding towards the art department, a smug smile on his face as his classmates had to do PE in the rain and he didn't. Instead, he got to spend time with Mr Way.

Though, when he wandered in, there was no small-toothed smile to greet him. Instead, Gerard had his head on the desk, eyes closed, hands being used for a substitute pillow. His hair was splayed out on the desk like a black halo.

"Gee?" Frank said, brows knitted together as he wandered over to him. When he got closer, he heard soft snores, which made him chuckle as Gerard had fallen asleep. Thankfully, he didn't have a lesson to teach.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Gerard appeared so peaceful, and Frank was desperate to take a picture. However, he restrained himself because if Gerard were to wake up, or if someone else was to walk through the doors, Frank would seem extremely creepy.

Sighing, he crouched down beside him, tucking Gerard's hair behind his ears so he could see his eyes. The movement caused Gerard to stir and he groaned quietly, nose twitching like a rabbit.

Frank's first thought was, _oh, shit, he's waking up,_ and he nearly scampered back to make it look like he wasn't staring like a total weirdo. But Gerard relaxed again.

Obviously, Frank couldn't leave Gerard to snooze through the rest of the day. While he was pretty sure it wasn't illegal to fall asleep in class, it was probably frowned upon, and Gerard was already in trouble because of the mock exams dilemma.

Hesitantly, Frank shook his shoulder gently, unsure of how else to lure him back to consciousness. "Gerard?" He tried.

Nothing.

"Gerard?" He tapped him lightly on the nose, which only caused Gerard to scrunch his face up, still asleep, which Frank just had to smile at because it was adorable. "Gee, come on."

Still nothing.

 _What if I just tickle him awake? Or bang pots together?_ Frank thought, growing a little impatient as he needed him conscious and clearly that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Either he was a heavy sleeper, or he was pretending.

"Gee?" He leaned forwards, whispering in his ear. "Mr Way?"

Finally, Gerard stirred, groaning softly as his eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was the collar of Frank's shirt and he furrowed his brows, confused.

Realising he was awake, Frank jumped back immediately, a blush rising to his cheeks. "Hi." He said, his voice cracking slightly. "Feel like joining the real world?"

Wearily raising his head off the desk, Gerard just stared at him blankly. "What?"

"You fell asleep, you idiot."

"Sorry, sugar, I'm tired." He hadn't registered his surroundings. He barely acknowledged that it was Frank. Usually, it was Bert waking him up, and that was his automatic response.

Pleasantly surprised, Frank blushed. "That's the second time you've called me that." He teased, shuffling back to lean against one of the tables. If he was going to stay calm, he needed distance. The nickname 'Frankie' already made the butterflies in his stomach go rabid.

"What?" He blinked, rubbing his eyes. "Frank?"

Puzzled, Frank narrowed his eyes. "Yes?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he sighed, dragging his hands down his face. "I'm so used to saying that, it's what I call my boyfriend."

Holding his breath, his eyes widened slightly and he tried to keep an even expression. "Your. . . Your boyfriend?" He was both overjoyed and disappointed; Gerard liked boys, _thank god_ , he thought, but it also meant he wasn't single. However, Frank didn't know why it mattered anyway. Nothing could ever happen; Gerard was his _teacher_.

"Yeah. . ." Gerard's breath hitched in his throat, worry whirring around his mind. He stared at his hands, fidgeting with the zip of his denim jacket. "My boyfriend. . ."

Pressing his lips together, Frank nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "What's his name?" he asked, attempting to obliterate the growing awkwardness.

Eventually starting to calm down, Gerard replied shyly, "Bert."

"That's unusual." He shrugged. "You never hear anyone called Bert these days."

Gerard chuckled, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I suppose not."

-

When Frank arrived home after struggling through the wind and the rain, he was surprised to find the door unlocked. Instantly, his mind screamed at him for forgetting to secure the door, but then he heard a familiar voice travel through the hall from the kitchen. Two familiar voices, actually.

Dumping his bags by the door, kicking his trainers off, throwing his coat on a hook, Frank wandered in to the kitchen. Furrowing his brows, he opened the door to reveal his mother -and Brendon, who was the last person he was expecting.

"Hey." Brendon smiled.

"What're you doing here?" He cocked his head to the side, having not seen him since that God awful party.

His mother raised her eyebrows, "That's no way to greet a friend is it?" She put her glass down. "Or your mum, for that matter, come here." She grinned as she pulled him in to a bone-crushing hug.

"Hello." Frank sighed contently, glad to have one of his parents back for the night. "Where's dad?"

"He's still driving, but he should be here soon."

Stepping away, Frank nodded. His mother waved as she exited the kitchen, leaving the two boys alone so they had privacy. Anyway, she wasn't too sure she was too interested to eaves drop on their conversation.

Frank turned to Brendon, who thrust a sparkly box in his direction. He just stared at it, confused.

"It's your present, princess." Brendon rolled his eyes playfully. "You left my house quite early, and I didn't manage to catch you at school, so I thought I'd drop it off."

"Thank you." Frank beamed, happily snatching it off Brendon to inspect it further. He would have torn it open, but he felt uncomfortable doing it while someone was watching him.

"I know you won't want me staring at you." Brendon said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket. "So, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah." Frank nodded, glad he understood. "I'll see you tomorrow." He knew he probably wouldn't, but there was hope.

[Published 29 September 2019]  
[Last edited 18 November 2019]


	19. weekend at frankie's

Saturday; the night Frank should have spent by going out with friends -or in his case: friend. Instead of going outside like a normal rebellious teenager, he spent the night in a twenty-four hour café, waiting tables and being punished unjustly by his social anxiety. It was swell.

However, while he was clearing tables, dealing with sleepy business men, who basically jacked themselves up on shots of caffeine, and drunks from the nearby pub, the one thing that cheered Frank up was the fact he saw Mr Way.

Since Frank had seen him that one time a few weeks ago, he'd been secretly hoping Gerard would be there again. Totally not in a stalker-ish way. And low and behold: there he was.

Just like last time, Gerard was slouched at the back of the café, sipping a cup of steaming coffee. He was staring intently at the screen, blinking hard to keep his eyes focused, and Frank could tell by the way that he had his jaw clenched that he was supressing a yawn. Obviously the caffeine wasn't doing its usual job of keeping him awake.

Before a different table could call him over, Frank quietly speed walked towards Gerard, head hung low. He didn't want to annoy him, or seem over-eager in any way. "Hey, Gee."

Gerard didn't even have to look; no one ever called him that except Frank. A grin already overtaking his lips, he flicked his gaze away from the screen. "Hey."

"Whatcha up to?"

" _Whatcha_?" Gerard giggled.

"Never said it, so I thought I'd try it out." Frank felt his cheeks heat up. "Not me?"

"Not the slightest." He took a sip of his drink, raising his eyebrows. "Not unless you're secretly in a street gang, are you?"

"You never know, I could be." Frank pressed his lips in to a thin line, stuffing his hands in to the pockets of the black apron he had to wear to show he actually worked here. "That's why it's a secret gang."

"Well," Shrugging his shoulders, Gerard set his mug down, closing his laptop halfway. "I guess you could pull off the leather jacket, greasy hair and skinny jeans aesthetic."

"You think so?" Frank chuckled, suddenly aware of how he looked _right then_ : baggy jeans, a plain long-sleeved t-shirt and hair tied back in a much too messy bun, taken from a _very manly_ tutorial off the internet.

"Possibly, but your face would give you away."

"My face?"

Shifting in his seat, Gerard scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "You've got a kind face." He murmured, avoiding all eye contact like his life depended on it. "You've got to be mean if you're in a gang."

"Oh, yeah?" Frank smiled, unable to wipe the smile away. He continued on, fighting the blush rising to his cheeks. "I'd love to have a leather jacket, but I can never find a decent one."

"Really?" He paused, running his eyes along Frank's torso, then back up to his face. "I think I can imagine you in one. Proper tough guy." Gerard nodded, crossing one leg over the other and resting his hands on his knee. "Now. . . Do me."

"Wh-what?"

"Oh," He laughed quietly, "I meant: do you think I could be in a gang?"

"Uhm. . ." Frank traced his face with his eyes, squinting at him. "I don't really have to imagine."

Gerard furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

"Last time you were here, you already had the leather jacket, tight jeans and greasy hair," He explained. He was towering over Gerard, basking in the feeling of what it would be like to be tall.

"Oh." A redness tinted his cheeks and he darted his eyes to the floor as he suddenly remembered which particular jeans he had been wearing. He blushed even more. Luckily, the jeans he had on tonight didn't have that much of a rip in them. "I forgot about that."

"But, I think your clumsiness would give you away."

"Hey-"

"Or would it be how dorky you are?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Is this _insult your friend day_?" Gerard retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Not an insult." Frank shook his head. "I like how dorky you are."

Gerard just smiled.

-

Much to Frank's objections and mental protests, he'd been given the job of manning the counter. Surely, by now, the manager would have picked up on how _painfully_ awkward he was in social situations, not to mention his face went practically scarlet when he talked to anyone, which just made it even more embarrassing.

Awful, it was. He could barely carry his voice across the counter and he'd have to repeat himself more often than not. He just wasn't built for communicating with other humans.

"Frank?" the manager called, and he turned around. "One more and you can go home, yeah?"

 _Thank God_. Frank mentally screamed with joy. "Yeah."

Fortunately, his last customer would be Gerard, as he closed his laptop, slid it in to his satchel, then grabbed his denim jacket off the back of the chair.

Shamelessly, Frank watched him approach.

Eventually, after digging around for his wallet, Gerard glanced up and seemed to brighten when he saw who it was. "Hey. Long time, no see."

"Hey," Frank chuckled, taking the paper that a different waiter had written Gerard's order on. "So how many coffees did it take to keep you awake? Four, five?"

" _Ha, ha_." Rolling his eyes, he took out his credit card, slotting it in to the machine.

Everyone simultaneously turned their heads to peer out of the windows when a flash of lightning sparked from the sky. Following close behind, a waterfall of heavy rain thundered down, with -surprisingly- no actual thunder.

"Shit." Gerard muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

"I love storms." Frank beamed, staring at the inky sky with curious, wide eyes.

"Me too," Gerard sighed, "But I don't have my car." Frank furrowed his brows, his confusion urging on Gerard to explain further. "I live quite far away, and it wasn't raining before, so I walked. . ."

"The disadvantages of exercise." He laughed shortly, enjoying the slightly pissed off expression on Gerard's face.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." He shrugged, stealing another glance at the severity of the weather.

"If you live far away, then why not find a nearer café?"

"I came back for the coffee." Gerard admitted, returning his card and wallet to his pocket. "It's fucking wonderful here."

"I'm sensing a high standard coffee addiction." Frank teased with a smile. He untied his apron, balling it up and stuffing it under the counter. Numerous times he'd been told off for that, but it was automatic now, and he couldn't think of a better place.

"I'm not addicted." Gerard mumbled, pulling his jacket around himself.

" _Really_?" He scoffed, receiving a playful shove. "How far away are you?"

"I live right opposite the bus stop next to the park."

"The park's just up the road?" Frank cocked his head to the side, grabbing his coat off the hook. Conveniently, he'd come prepared with a huge coat that swallowed his entire being.

"No, the park with the lake."

"Oh." Frank frowned because that _was_ far. Taking a deep breath, he was both terrified and excited to hear the answer of the risky question he was about to ask next. "Why-why don't you stay at my house until it dies down? It's only around the corner."

"What?" He blinked in disbelief. "I can't let you do that. . ."

"Come on, it'll be fun." He nudged Gerard in the ribs, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Frank. . ."

"It's fine. I'll be paying you back for the car ride home."

"Really?" Gerard bit his lip so hard he winced. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, my parents are out of town." He paused, slowly realising what that made him sound like he was proposing. "Not like that, I just mean that you won't have to be worried about not being allowed 'round."

"Right." Gerard breathed, switching his gaze between the pouring rain and Frank, who was standing on his toes in anticipation. "Only if you're sure it's okay?"

"It is." He smiled reassuringly.

-

The rain had gotten even worse, and Frank had felt sorry for Gerard, who'd speed walked alongside him, getting absolutely drenched in his useless denim jacket. Frank had unzipped his coat and held it over their heads, keeping both of them somewhat dry.

By the time they got to Frank's, the wind was so bitterly cold that Frank could barely unlock the door for his frozen fingers. Thankfully, he managed after a few suspenseful seconds and they rushed inside, the door slamming behind them. It was pitch black.

"Can you turn the light on?"

Frank nodded, despite being invisible, and flicked the switch, flooding the wide space with a dim light. He shook his head, painting the wall with raindrops. After hanging his coat, kicking off his shoes and using the banister for support, he turned to his guest.

Gerard was the epitome of wet. He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, hair hiding his face as it was soaked, water dripping off the ends. Frank could only see his little pixie nose, which was a pale red from the cold, poking through a curtain of black. He supposed his cheeks were vibrantly coloured, too.

"Here." Frank helped him pry his jacket off, hooked it over the door handle, then took Gerard by the arm and led him to a radiator.

"Thank you." Gerard wiped his hair away from his face. "This weather sucks when you're actually in it."

"Definitely." Frank agreed, tucking his hair behind his ears. "You're gonna freeze to death."

"So are you."

He pondered a few solutions. They could start the fire in the leaving room, though it was a _real_ fire and it'd take forever for it to get going. The radiators were on, but they weren't doing much.

"Hold on." Frank muttered, disappearing up the stairs. Hurriedly, he grabbed two of his biggest hoodies he could find, pulled off his t-shirt and changed in to one of them, then carried the other downstairs.

When he re-emerged, Gerard was sat on the floor, taking his boots off and storing them underneath the radiator in hopes they'd dry soon.

"Here, catch." Frank chucked a hoodie to him, but it landed on his head. He laughed quietly, "I said catch."

A playful scowl on his face, Gerard pouted. "You didn't give me much warning." He inspected the clothing, then searched Frank for answers.

"For you to wear." He linked his hands behind his back, nibbling his lip nervously. "You can hang your shirt to dry on the radiator."

"You sure?"

Frank nodded.

"Thank you." He smiled. He was about to take his shirt off when he paused. "Can you turn around?"

"Yeah, sure." He said, flustered. To distract himself, he wandered over to the fireplace to attempt to get a fire going. Fortunately, his parents had stocked up on wood, so they could keep it going all night if they wanted.

 _Not that he's going to be here all night_ , Frank thought.

"Oh!" Gerard gasped excitedly, earning a quizzical expression. "I love real fires." He trotted over like an eager puppy, crouching down beside him -Frank fought the urge to pat his head.

"You're not a pyromaniac, are you?"

"Of course not," Gerard grinned. "Can't a guy love fire on a reasonable level?"

"As long as you don't burn my house down, have all the fun you want." He gestured to the mounds of cardboard that needed to be burnt up, and Gerard's eyes darted to them, not knowing where to start.

"You sure?" Gerard asked quietly.

Frank nodded. He dug the heels of his palms in to his eyes, shaking his head a little to wake his mind up. When he lowered his hands, slapping them by his sides, Gerard was kneeling by the fire, totally engulfed in the borrowed hoodie, attempting to light a match, sulking because it wouldn't work.

"Oh!" Frank remembered, jumping a little on the spot. "Hang on." He disappeared, receiving a confused look from Gerard, who abandoned the matches as he rose to his feet. Upon returning, he brought an all too familiar jacket. "This is yours."

Gerard blinked. "I actually forgot about that."

"I was tempted to keep it, so don't go letting me borrow anymore of your clothes, because next time I probably won't give them back." He pressed his lips together, refolding the jacket. "I'll hang this up."

"Thank you." He wrapped Frank's hoodie around himself more, wanting to be engulfed by it. "How long do you think the rain will last?" He asked, checking his watch. Bert would want him home soon.

"I have no idea." Frank mumbled, poking his head in to the living room, which startled Gerard a little. He wasn't used to seeing floating heads. "Want a coffee?"

"We _just_ came from a coffee shop."

"That's a no?"

"No way, I love coffee." He beamed. Frank gestured for him to follow, so he did.

As they walked through the hall, Gerard got curious as to who Frank Iero really was; he'd never seen him outside of school. There were pictures of baby Frank lining the walls. And a few of two other people, who he assumed were Frank's parents.

"Oh God." Frank groaned. "Do not look at those."

"Why not?"

"Unless you're willing to show me photos of you in your teenage years, or when you were a baby, you can't look at photos of me."

"But they're right there!" He whined defensively.

"No!" Frank whined harder, grabbing Gerard's hand to drag him in to the kitchen.

"Fine." He huffed. "When you come to my house, you can look at the pictures on my walls. Sound fair?"

Frank held his breath. _There's going to be a point where I get to go to Gerard's house?_

Gerard must have realised what he said too, because his cheeks heated up. "I-I mean. . ." He muttered something incoherent and Frank couldn't understand what he was saying. "You know. . ?"

Blinking, Frank shook his head. "I have no idea what you just said."

"Oh well," he waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter."

Taking a deep breath, he composed himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Coffee?"

"Coffee."

-

The rain hadn't ceased at all. It was still battering the windows like pebbles being fired from a machine gun against the glass. Honestly, Frank was grateful that God was pelting the earth with water, because it meant that Gerard could stay a little longer. It looked like he was being granted his wish; it was fairly late at night now.

They'd put Netflix on as background noise a while ago, but the random horror film they'd chosen had gotten interesting.

Both of them were cuddled up on the sofa underneath a fluffy blanket that Frank had found in his mother's wardrobe. It wasn't very big so they'd had to shuffle up close. Close enough that Frank could feel stray wisps of Gerard's hair tickle his neck.

It was getting _really_ late.

So late that Gerard's eyelids were growing extremely heavy and he could barely manage to keep them open. Despite the slitting of throats and the gross gurgling noises that the victims made on the TV, he was perfectly comfortable to drift to sleep.

Hey," Frank noticed, tapping him lightly on the nose. "Stay with me."

"Hmph?" Was all Gerard could manage in response. His face was partially hidden by a fluffy mass, and he had his knees tucked up to his chin, leaning on Frank.

"Don't fall asleep, the rain might stop." Frank whispered, enjoying Gerard's sleepy state. Looking down on him from this angle, he could practically count his long lashes.

"Shh. . ." Gerard scowled playfully, glancing up at Frank for a split second before his eyes completely shut and he slowly fell limp, his head resting on Frank's chest.

Sighing, Frank rolled his eyes. _You can't just_ fall asleep _on my sofa_ , but he already had. Though Frank didn't have the heart to wake him up.

Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he supposed he could make the best of the situation. He shuffled in to a more comfortable position, making sure he didn't disturb Gerard, and decided he might as well get some sleep, too. At least it was only Saturday. Well, Sunday as it was already past midnight.

He just hoped to God that his parents weren't coming home unexpectedly in the morning.

"Goodnight, Gee."

-

Frank awoke quite suddenly, having been jolted by the thought that had been spinning in his mind: _Gerard is asleep right next to me_.

Or rather, Gerard was asleep _on top_ of him. During the night, they must have moved around quite a bit because Gerard had his arms snaked around Frank's waist, his torso pushed up against Frank's back (the limitation of space from the sofa didn't help), and his face was buried in Frank's hair, parted lips brushing his neck.

"Fuck. . ." Frank whispered. He had to move. Despite how reluctant he was to do so, he had to move -without waking Gerard, if at all possible.

Carefully, he tried to pry free from Gerard's arms, wiggling his way out of his hold. Thankfully, he didn't exactly have a death grip on him, so that part was fairly easy. Holding his breath, he slid off the edge of the sofa, successfully crouching on the floor.

Unluckily, regardless of Frank's efforts to be sneaky, Gerard began to stir. He groaned quietly, stretching his arms above his head, causing the oversized hoodie to bunch up around his hips.

"Morning." Frank smiled. In the chilly air, he shivered.

"Huh?" Gerard yawned, curling back up in to a ball.

"It's morning, sleepy head."

"Morning?" Gerard shot up, blinking fast as he glanced around the room.

"It's fine. It's only Sunday." He furrowed his brows. "Everything alright?"

Slowly, Gerard nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Of course. I just-I didn't expect to stay overnight." He frowned, an accusing, yet almost sad expression quickly crossed his features. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Well." Frank averted his gaze. Clearly, he didn't like the fact he'd stayed. By the looks of it, he didn't want to be here at all. "I tried to wake you up before you fell asleep, but it was late and you seemed so tired. . ."

A pang of guilt tugged at his heart strings. He didn't want upset Frank. He didn't want him to think he wanted to leave because of him. "I'm sorry."

"What?" He said, puzzled as hell.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing wrong with this. I'm just-I don't know."

Frank chewed his cheek, getting up off the floor. "You want any coffee?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

-

Eventually, by the time they'd had a drink, watched Friends on Comedy Central, and shared a brownie that Frank had discovered his mother had bought for him, the rain had stopped.

Even though Frank couldn't exactly keep Gerard like some sort of prisoner, he had tried to persuade him to stay a little longer with temptation of chocolate flavoured coffee and the intrigue of the next Friends episode. Inevitably though, Gerard had to leave.

Honestly, Frank just missed having someone around. He missed Brendon. He missed his parents, who were always somewhere else. Besides them, he had no one else to keep him company. Unless he counted the huge amount of goddamn massive not-so-nice spiders that scared the living shit out of him, but he wasn't going to.

"I have a lot of work to do." Gerard sighed, unzipping the hoodie to change in to his shirt as Frank turned away. "Plus," He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Bert will wonder where the hell I am. I forgot to text him last night."

"Oh, crap." Frank's eyes widened. He'd totally forgotten about Gerard's boyfriend - _lucky fucker_. "I'm sorry to keep you away."

"It's okay." Gerard smiled reassuringly. "You don't have to apologise. I had fun." He shrugged on his denim jacket, which was still pretty damp. He'd have to deal with it, it wasn't the end of the world.

"Don't forget this one." Frank fetched the corduroy jacket off the hook, handing it to Gerard, who beamed at him.

"Well, you definitely payed me back for the car ride home. Although you really didn't have to."

"Like I said before: I wanted to."

[Published 7 October 2019]  
[Last edited 17 December 2019]


	20. Chapter 20

The ongoing wind and rain was getting awfully tedious. Yes, winter was his favourite season, but couldn't there have been more variety? Snow, sleet, hail, ice, frost, fog -Frank would even welcome a bit of _sun_ at this point. Anything besides wind, rain, more rain, heavier rain, then wind again.

However, he couldn't complain too much. The rain was the reason Gerard had stayed over. It was three days ago. Frank was still buzzing.

It was weird; all these mixed up feelings he had for him that somehow developed in to a crush. A very stupid one at that. They'd only known each other three months -if that.

It wasn't like Frank could _vent_ to anyone either, unless he decided to make friends with the ginger cat that prowls around his house, and meows like the king of England.

Loneliness was his only conclusion. It had to be. But that somehow didn't make the way he felt any less real.

 _God, it sucks_.

With a sigh, Frank traipsed up the stairs to the art department, carrying his feet like heavy weights melded to his legs. Even though it was time for his favourite lesson, he didn't feel like going. Yesterday, Gerard hadn't been in school, and Frank feared he was the reason. Now, he was simultaneously wishing Gerard was in and he wasn't.

Taking a deep breath, he poked his head around the wall in to 169a, hoping someone other than Gerard wouldn't see him. Though he didn't have to worry about that because Gerard was in fact sat at his desk, marking papers. But Frank could only see the back of his head as he was swivelled around in his chair, facing the window.

 _Perfect_. He thought, sneaking in to the middle room unnoticed.

-

Obviously, Frank couldn't just chill there for the rest of the day. He still had to collect his folder, be there for the register and actually do something productive. But he didn't do any of those things. Instead, he remained there, slightly scared, chewing his lip. His excuse was that his arse had been glued to the chair and he couldn't move.

Pretty lame, but you never know, some people might just be that stupid.

The bell rang, shooting doubt in to his well-thought-through lie.

Frank panicked, digging random sketches out of his bag to attempt to pass it off as artwork. He listened to the tens of footsteps that shook the floor, then waited patiently as he faintly heard Gerard's weary voice list names off the register. Then-

"Frank?"

 _Oh, crap_.

"Frank?"

Silently, Frank stayed put, sending thoughts through the walls to Gerard, praying he would come to him instead. He didn't believe in magic, but that's just what Gerard did.

A few minutes later, the door clicked open and Gerard shuffled in. As usual, his hair was complete chaos, flicking up at his temples and flopping over his eyes. He'd abandoned the _smart teacher_ _look_ for the day with his Morrissey t-shirt and tattered grey jeans.

"I brought your stuff." He shut the door, then spread the folder out on the desk.

"Thank you."

"Is there anything I can help you with before I go back to that riot?" He sighed, gesturing to the class next door. It was then that Frank noticed the restlessness in his movements, but the way he also had to drag himself, something weighing on him.

"Uhm," Frank flicked through his project. So far, he'd done two pen and pencil drawings of Brendon, and a few watercolour tests for the eyes. What he had left to do was a huge A2 final piece, a couple more smaller paintings and an evaluation. Not to mention, he had to do last year's work, too. He slouched. "I'm bad at painting?"

Rolling his eyes, Gerard took a seat beside him. "You're not _bad_. You just need practice. You're used to working with pencils, that's all."

Messing with his hair to hide his face, Frank smiled. "Well, could please tell my hands that, because they're useless with a brush."

"It's okay, I'll teach you," He smiled. "Want to start now, or after school?"

"What would I do now if I didn't do painting?"

"Good question." Gerard drummed his fingers on the desk, subconsciously to the beat of Father of All by Green Day. "Uhm, do you have anything to finish on your other assignment?"

"Yeah, only my compositions, but I don't think they'll last two lessons. Plus, one of them needs to be done with paint. . ."

"Can you start now, then?"

"There's-" Swallowing the lump in his throat, Frank glanced down. It would call attention to him if he entered the classroom. He had so much anxiety, he was surprised he wasn't on medication. Though a fear of disappointing Gerard frightened him a smidge more. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah, I'll get some stuff from Mr Wright's room." No one was in there.

"Okay, I'll try to help you when I can." He slouched. "I'm not sure leaving them unsupervised is a good idea."

"No. . ." Frank drifted off, shaking his head. "Maybe stay with them and I'll come through at the end -I'll bring my rad as hell art skills that don't exist."

"That's the spirit." He said sarcastically.

-

By the time Gerard had set everything up for Frank, attempted to lighten the mood with humour that he had to giggle at because it was an adorable effort, it had already gone past four o'clock. Yet, Mr Wright was lingering next door, so they were kind of in a freeze, waiting for him to leave to really start to finish something.

"Hey, Gee." Frank called and Gerard looked over from the computer screen. He ducked his head, seething in a low tone. "How the fuck do you paint?"

Raising his eyebrows, Gerard scoffed, "Language, Frankie, you're still in school."

"I know," He sighed, "Don't remind me." Sometimes, he was so relaxed around Gerard that he forgot where he was.

"Here," He moved to stand behind Frank, gently taking the pencil from his fingers. "Can I sketch a little on this?"

"Uhm, yeah." Frank nodded, glancing up at him.

With no objections from Frank, Gerard practically leaned on top of him, one hand on his shoulder, one hand free to draw. His chest was pressed against Frank's back, and he could feel each breath he took.

Paying no attention, his eyes travelled to Gerard. He could see the knots and dye in his hair. He smiled slightly at how _Gerard_ he was. There was no other word he could think of. Gerard was just perfectly _Gerard_. However the smile dropped when he spotted a small cut at Gerard's temple, a purple bruise clouding around it, badly covered up with makeup. This was the third time he'd been unexplainably bruised.

"Hey," Gerard suddenly turned his head to narrow his eyes at him, "Are you listening, Iero?"

Frank blinked, nodding once.

"I don't think you are." He raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"Oh, what?" He just blinked again. "Nothing."

Sighing, Gerard straightened up, then hopped up on to the table, crossing one leg over the other as he rested his feet on the chair beside him. He softly nudged Frank's elbow with his foot. He didn't need to say anything to get Frank to start talking.

"It's just-" Last time he'd asked it was a mistake, and this one probably wasn't going to be any different. He gestured to the other room, referring to Mr Wright. "Can I tell you after he's gone?"

"Of course."

-

As said, when the teacher left, Frank flicked his gaze to Gerard, who was sat cross legged at his desk, staring absentmindedly at the computer screen. (Honestly, Frank was a bit disappointed that he hadn't put any music on.)

"Gee?" Frank mumbled hesitantly, sitting on his hands so he didn't fidget.

Gerard looked at him, head resting on his hand.

"What happened to your. . ." He trailed off, tapping his own temple to get across the rest of the sentence.

"Oh," He was caught off guard. "You could see it? Do you-do you know if anyone else noticed?"

"Never mind that for now, how'd you get it?"

"I. . . I think I banged my head in my sleep." Translated: Bert had been mad at his lack of explanation as to where he'd been all night.

 _Bullshit,_ is what Frank originally wanted to say, but he caught the word in his throat, and it morphed in to a strangled cough. After a dragged out silence, he attempted to keep a flat tone. "Well, for as accident prone as you are, you're gonna have to get better at makeup."

"Hey," Gerard whined, lips pressed in to a pout. "Are you any better?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Really?" He smiled, clearly amused.

"My cousin used to beg me to help her with her makeup, and I became a pro."

"Is this you offering lessons?"

"Maybe."

"I'd be better at it if I used it more often because it's like art on your face, but I don't like putting things on my face -apart from eyeliner." He added. "That's the exception."

"Is that why you dye your hair? To make up for the lack of colour elsewhere?" Frank chuckled, tucking his hair behind his ears before leaning his arms on the desk.

Gerard gave him a deadpan glare, rolling his eyes. "Don't dis my hair, or. . ." He searched for an answer. "I'll make you look bad on parents evening."

Instantly, Frank's jaw dropped to look like the scream. "There's a parent's evening?" He ran his hands down his face, annoyed.

"Yeah. Well, next year. . . In. . . March?"

"Oh, thank God." It wasn't too close, then. Anyway, it's not like his parents would be likely to attend. "I hate parent's evenings." With a burning passion. "They're always so. . . Uncomfortable."

"They're not my favourite, either." Gerard sighed, shrugging his shoulders half-heartedly. "If a student's behaving badly and I have to tell their parents, it feels like I'm grassing them up."

"Well, there are only three years between us. I'm sure it'll be different when you're older."

"Maybe." He scratched the back of his neck, averting his eyes to the computer screen. "I don't know if I want to do this when I'm older, though. Sure, for a few years from now, but I want to _live_ , too. I don't want to have to deal with whiny kids my whole life." Frank felt directly attacked -he could whine for hours about any one subject. "I'll come back to it after I've travelled a bit."

Frank hummed, gazing at Gerard, shamelessly. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Italy."

"Italy?"

Gerard nodded.

"Why Italy? You going for the pizza?"

He chuckled. "While that's an added bonus, I want to go because the architecture seems so pretty. It's the kind of place where you can read a book on a balcony at the end of the day with hot coffee as the stars create patterns above."

Frank could imagine that. He could imagine Gerard in that scenario. "Yeah. . ." He breathed dreamily, but he quickly snapped himself out of it.

"Do you want to travel anywhere?"

Frank took a deep breath, blowing the air out through gritted teeth. "I've never really thought about it." He smiled. "I'll just come to Italy with you."

That put an unreadable expression on Gerard's features and Frank just about fell out of his chair trying to read it.

They made brief eye contact, then Gerard made a point of checking his watch. "Shall we call it a day?"

"Definitely." Frank replied eagerly. It was only past half four, but both of them were already tired and desperate to collapse in to a bed.

[Published 29 October 2019]  
[Last edited 18 November 2019]


	21. Chapter 21

Frank couldn't help it; he was in the Christmassy mood. November was gone -practically old news- and he was ecstatic. The schools halls were lined with red and green tinsel, the main hall actually had a Christmas tree. It was plastic, to Frank's disappointment because he loved real trees.

Obviously, there was some sort of Christmas themed cafeteria menu. There always was during the two weeks before Christmas. Probably, without bothering to check, he knew there'd be some sort of disgusting concoction of raisins, sultanas, dates and cherries that the school would pass off as cake. But cake was supposed to be icing, chocolate and vanilla, in Frank's mind, so he never knew why anyone bought it.

Just like Halloween, there were hand-made decorations littering the art room's walls. Most of them were created by messy first years -as they were mainly the only ones who were excited about doing it- and they didn't look. . . Aesthetically pleasing. He didn't want to insult their talent, but he thought it didn't look like they had any to insult. Now he knew that was mean.

For the third time that week, Frank traipsed up to the art department, having just come from music with Brendon, who had paid no attention to the lesson whatsoever. A few times, Frank had cracked a smile, however he didn't want to fail, so after getting tired of the jokes, his expression settled in to, what you would call, a resting bitch face.

Frank's day was only growing worse because the art rooms weren't empty like they usually were. At least twenty students were milling around or sat at tables, surrounded by piles of stacked folders. Pencils were strewn all over the desks and Frank felt the urge to clear them away.

Even worse, Gerard wasn't there. He couldn't see the teal among the natural coloured hair and his breath got stuck in his throat. He whizzed around, leaving everyone in imaginary dust.

Instantly, like God was punishing just him today, he crashed in to someone.

Frank shook his head, ready to dart away before they could see his face because he was maddeningly embarrassed, but they reached for his arm. He pulled away, adjusting the strap of his bag.

"Frank?" Their tone was somewhat hurt, and Frank did actually care as he realised when he glanced up, that it was in fact Gerard -the very person he wanted to see- who he'd bumped in to.

"Frank?" Gerard repeated, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Uhm, yeah?" But it was more of a question. "There's a class on tonight?"

"Is there?" He peered in to the classroom, then appeared very apologetic as he turned to Frank. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I would have told you, otherwise."

"It's fine," He waved a hand dismissively, regaining a calm composure. "I just really don't like crowds." He took in Gerard's full appearance, from his small teeth to his coffee-stained tie. "Did I do that?" He asked shyly, nodding to his wet shirt, which was quickly soaking from a white to brown, clinging to his skin.

"Oh," Gerard looked down, frowning. "My coffee." He whined, clearly not bothered about his shirt, more the fact that his newly-made coffee was spilt.

"I'm sorry-"

Gerard held a hand up; _it's fine_. He looked like he'd just witnessed a puppy dying. Coffee really seemed to be Gerard's strange addiction. "I'll get another."

"I'll get it for you?" Frank suggested, carefully taking the mug from him. Gerard shook his hand to get the liquid off of it, some droplets catching Frank's chin. He just laughed quietly, wiping it away with his sleeve.

Gerard appreciated the offer, though it wasn't doable. "The coffee machine is in the staff room. No students allowed."

"I'm sure I'll be allowed if there's a member of staff with me, so you better follow, because right now, I'm under your supervision." He raised his eyebrows with a cheeky grin.

Hesitantly doing as he was told, Gerard just scoffed.

-

Thankfully, no one else had been in there, and Frank had been able to figure out how the hell to work this particularly weird type of coffee machine while Gerard watched, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, entertained.

Eventually, Frank managed to produce a fine cup of coffee, handing it to Gerard with a triumphant grin.

Still scolding hot and black, Gerard sipped it.

"No sugar?"

Mouth attached to the rim of the mug, he shook his head, causing the contents to slosh around.

"Isn't it bitter?"

After a long drink, Gerard paused to breathe. "Extremely."

"Gross." Frank stated, eyes flickering to the blinds as they rattled in the wind. "I have to have loads of sugar in mine because it's horrible if there isn't."

"I know." Expectantly, Gerard held the mug under Frank's nose, wafting the lovely smell towards him. "Try it."

"Ha," He snorted, "no."

"Why not?"

"It'll taste awful."

"Please?"

"Fine." He snatched it, glanced up at Gerard mischievously, then dipped his tongue in it rather than actually drinking it like a regular human being.

He made a disgusted face, scrunching his nose, "You know I'll still drink that, right?"

"Even if I spit in it?"

"Don't you dare."

A sly smirk tugging at his lips, Frank wiggled his eyebrows. "Or what?"

Huffing, Gerard put a hand on his hip, tilting his head downwards so he could glare through his lashes. "Or I'll spit on you."

Frank snickered, "Is that a promise?" So many innuendoes and crude jokes sprung to mind.

He narrowed his eyes. "Just give me back my coffee, you've already ruined my shirt."

It was true. He had. It was properly stained all down the front, practically transparent so Frank could gaze freely at his chest. He blinked, forcing himself to stare at the wall behind Gerard instead. Without a word, he passed back the mug. He did feel guilty.

"Thank you." Gerard smiled, wrapping his fingers around it to get all the warmth he could. "Do you want to go to the library? It's always empty."

"For what?"

"To work on your project."

"Oh, yeah," He nodded. "Lead the way."

-

They seated themselves at the very back, smushed in a corner where they could survey the whole area. It was vacant, save for a woman at the reception desk. Her typing was the only noise. They half expected to hear crickets in the distance.

Gerard set his coffee on the other side of the table, as far away from Frank as it could get. "I'll go get your stuff."

Frank nodded, "Oh, okay. Thank you."

Gerard tried to be quick, however he got held up by photography students, asking him multiple questions a minute, he could barely keep track. His head was basically a merry-go-round when he finally got the chance to leave.

Half an hour later and Gerard slumped in to a seat beside Frank, muttering a string of apologies.

"I thought you'd left me." Frank joked, although for a moment he had been scared he wasn't going to return.

"People kept asking me all sorts of things, and I couldn't get away."

"Aren't you the popular one?"

"Ugh," He groaned, closing his eyes.

"I agree." Frank shrugged with a slight laugh. Curiosity was wired in to his nature, so after contemplating, keeping them in silence for a few minutes, he asked, "What about when you were in high school? Were you popular?"

Gerard raised his eyebrows. Awful, hazy memories flooded to the front of his mind and he wished Frank hadn't asked. "What do you think?"

"I'd rather not guess. . . But, yes?"

"No, I wasn't."

Honestly, he was shocked. Totally platonically, Frank meant this in the best I'm-not-attracted-to-my-teacher way possible: Gerard was _hot_ ; Gerard was _pretty_. Both in an odd, old fashioned kind of way that was truly noticeable, that everyone would be jealous of because he was the kind of hot that made you glance back twice in the street just to make sure he was real.

On top of that, he always seemed to talk from one side of his mouth and his lip twitched upwards when he was concentrating. To say the least: it was adorable.

"I don't believe that."

Sighing quietly, Gerard fought off a frown. "Can we talk about something else?"

Even though Frank wanted to know why, he just nodded, "Yeah, sure."

"Your project, for example." He began, sifting through the contents of the folder, picking out the sketches that were completed. "You need to sort these out and decide which ones will go on your first sheet, or your second."

"Right," Frank bit his lip, staring intently at them all. He almost hated each of them. Though, to be fair, he was never happy with his work. He divided them in to piles, loads of Brendon's looking back at him, then temporarily stuck them to the sheet with double sided tape that he sneakily borrowed from the library receptionist's desk when she'd left.

Currently, it was rolling on to six o'clock, the two of them knackered and craving sleep. Frank had his feet up on a seat opposite, sprawled out over three seats as he was basically lying down. Gerard had his knees to his chest, curled up on a chair, pressed against the wall.

"Hey," Gerard poked Frank's shoulder, it being the first movement in awhile, jolting him a little. "You want to go before you end up falling asleep here? I'm not afraid to leave you for the janitor to find in the morning."

 _Yes you are_ , Frank thought, because Gerard couldn't leave him to get in to trouble even if he wanted to. He was too kind. "Yup." He popped the 'p'.

They gathered their things, cleared the table, then literally dragged themselves out of the library, shoes scuffing along the ground.

Outside, the sky was pitch black, and Frank thought that if it weren't for pollution, they might have been able to see the stars. The air was extremely cold. Their breathing created clouds, making Frank smile like a small child.

"Look." He tapped Gerard's arm to get his attention, then breathed in to the night. The cold zinged horribly through his teeth, but he didn't care.

"Oh," He smiled too, "I love that." Frank's lip ring glittered under the street lamp, catching Gerard's eye.

Obviously, because Frank was always searching for some sort of hint towards Gerard's feelings, due to this stupid crush, he noticed. But he didn't say anything, just licked his lips, which was probably signalling that he had noticed, but he hoped it didn't.

At some point, he was going to have to get over it; over Gerard. _Or under him_ , Frank thought, which made him laugh out loud, receiving a puzzled glance from Gerard. "Oh, nothing." He shrugged it off.

Frank rolled his eyes, _te_ _enage_ _hormones_.

[Published 30 October 2019]


	22. Chapter 22

Five days until Christmas, and Frank couldn't have been more miserable -regardless of the cheery atmosphere, festive songs and bright colours. Honestly, the excitement was just kind of draining. He would have been more appreciative, but he'd just learned his parents weren't coming home for Christmas. That was a total bummer.

They'd been out on Christmas Eve last year, but they'd made it home for Christmas day. Apparently, they were meant to make it up to him this year by actually being home, but they were creating a bad track record for themselves. Maybe they wouldn't be home for any holidays next year –or at all.

Brendon was still MIA. Though Frank occasionally spotted him in the halls being all cutesy and dreamy with Ryan. At least their relationship was holding strong. Dallon had supposedly fucked off. If he hadn't, Frank would have heard about it from Brendon. Though he wasn't really in the loop anymore.

Frank was so upset and mopey that he didn't even greet Gerard as he wandered in to the art department. He pretended he didn't see the disappointed look on Gerard's face when he didn't get a reply after smiling. "Hey, Frank." He didn't feel like talking.

Luckily –because Frank didn't particularly want to see Gerard as he couldn't deal with the butterflies that would control him in his sad state- he only had art once today. All through the morning until the bell rang and he'd scampered off to game development, he'd been praying Gerard wouldn't bother him about his mood. Thankfully he didn't.

It wasn't until sixth period that he was disturbed.

After settling down the class, Gerard grabbed Frank's folder for him and headed towards the middle room. He knocked lightly on the door. Frank had his head on the desk, facing away. Even though he had his eyes closed, he was sure his hearing wasn't impaired.

"Frank?" He said quietly, poking his head in.

No answer.

"I know you're not asleep." He sighed, locking the door behind him. It was too silent and the tension hung in the air for quite a while. Gerard didn't dare move any further, treating Frank like some sort of unpredictable wild animal that could dash away at any given moment.

"I am." Frank eventually muttered, peering at Gerard out of the corner of his eye.

It was quite dark, so his features were hidden by shadows, though Frank was certain Gerard's features were laced with concern. Concern he didn't want, but desperately needed because he felt like he had to break down and cry –mostly out of anger. He was pissed at his parents for never being around.

Tentatively, Gerard sat down beside him. "What's wrong?"

Frank caught a strong whiff of cigarettes. He must have been smoking during lunch hour –sneaky bastard. Taking a deep breath, blinking back annoyed tears, he replied, "Nothing. I'm a ray of sunshine, you know that."

"Not today." Gerard raised his eyebrows, leaning his arms on the desk. "You're allowed to be upset."

Frank rolled his eyes. Gerard was right in his line of vision, but he refused to make eye contact, or look anywhere near him. He settled for staring at the oh-so-interesting ceiling.

Hesitantly reaching across the desk, Gerard put his hand over Frank's. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

As if Gerard's comforting contact had any control over Frank's mouth, he sighed and decided to tell him. "My parents aren't gonna be home for Christmas." He sniffed, running his fingers through his hair. "They promised they would this year."

"Oh." Gerard frowned, squeezing Frank's hand gently, causing Frank to divert his attention, eyes fixed on their hands. "Why can't they come home? I-if you don't mind sharing." He added softly.

Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes, which made a tear fall and he wiped it away hastily. "Work stuff."

Gerard let go, and Frank was disappointed at the loss of contact. That was until Gerard stood, taking both of Frank's hands in his own as he pulled him up in to a hug. Gerard wrapped his arms around his waist, and Frank was quick to bury his head in the crook of his neck.

He didn't want Gerard to see him cry, though he let the tears fall anyway. They soaked in to the fabric of Gerard's shirt, but Gerard really couldn't have cared less.

Frank body shook as he tried to suppress sobs, but it didn't work very well. Gerard just held him tight and close, carding his fingers soothingly through Frank's hair.

Gerard sang to him in a whisper. Frank smiled. He didn't think Gerard would have remembered him saying it was currently his favourite song. Meds by Placebo. He had the perfect voice for it.

Frank would have joined in if it weren't for the fact he knew his voice would have wavered, cracked and been a mess altogether. Plus -it was slipping both of their minds- there was a class next door, and Gerard was supposed to be teaching it.

Eventually, Frank swallowed the lump in his throat, finding the courage to speak. He didn't like being so vulnerable. "Thank you."

Pulling away slightly, Gerard looked at him and smiled. "Of course. I don't want you to feel like shit."

Frank chuckled, moving his arms from Gerard's hips to rub his eyes. He wanted Gerard to stay, but he'd see him after school anyway. "You-you have a class to get back to."

Sighing, Gerard huffed, "Yeah, true. Do you want me to stay or. . ?"

Truthfully, Frank usually preferred to be miserable alone to wallow in self-pity, but, apparently, not this time. "Could you? As long as I'm not distracting you from your work."

"I thought I'd be the one distracting you."

"Actually, I still need help painting. Can you show me a few techniques?"

"Sure." Gerard smiled, eyes shining with a brightness he didn't think was possible in a dim room. "I'll get the paint."

"Thank you." He grinned. "Again."

[Published 7 November 2019]


	23. christmas

The only thing that Frank was thrilled about on Christmas Eve was the fact it was snowing. And it wasn't just snowing, it was _snowing_. Every surface known to man was layered in thick white sheets. Honestly, it was quite magical. The street lamps made the snow sparkle like glitter had just been dumped all over Jersey.

Thankfully, they'd broken up from school for the holidays a couple of days ago. The first thing Frank had done was snooze for two days straight -with the occasional coffee break.

Surprisingly, Brendon had been texting him, telling him all about how he and Ryan went sledging. Obviously, Frank liked to hear that they were having fun, but it was like a slap in the face because he'd wondered why he hadn't been invited.

 _Oh well_. He didn't mix with outdoor activities anyway. Frank was more of a _stay at home, drink hot chocolate and watch the Nightmare Before Christmas with me_ kind of person.

Though, without a doubt, even though that part sucked, it had been the best Christmas Eve by far -including the ones were his parents were there because they didn't particularly embrace his Christmas horror movie marathons.

-

Just as Frank was about to settle down to watch the Christmas episodes of Friends, someone knocked on the door. He huffed, putting his drink down a little harshly on the table. He hated being interrupted.

Sighing, he dragged himself up and unlocked the door to find Gerard standing there with a bright smile on his face, eyes seemingly twinkling. His black hair stood out against the snow that fell from the dark sky, some getting caught in his hair. Despite the weather, Gerard still persisted in wearing that bloody denim jacket.

Frank just blinked, eyebrows shooting off his head. "What are you doing here?" It wasn't meant to sound rude, but it had that tone behind the shock.

"Hello to you, too." Gerard said sarcastically, though his cheery demeanour didn't falter.

"No," Frank scratched his neck, feeling the awkward course through his veins like an unwanted, pointless superpower. "I'm glad to see you. I-I'm just confused."

Gerard glanced down. "Well," He bit his lip, going over how mad this idea actually was as they weren't supposed to interact outside of school. "You said your parents are away for Christmas, so. . . I thought we could, uhm, celebrate now instead?"

Almost imploding with happiness, Frank beamed, "Really?"

"Of course." He gave him a small toothed smile. "You can't miss Christmas."

"Technically, it's not Christmas yet." Frank pointed out, earning a deadpan glare.

"You know what I mean." He raised an eyebrow. "So. . . Are you coming with me?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Frank grabbed his coat off the hook in the hall, quickly switched the tv off, then joined Gerard outside. He was getting his keys out of his pocket when it occurred to him, "Where are we going?"

Gerard stepped back as Frank locked the door. "Maybe we could go around all the Christmassy shops and dance in the snow like we're in a cheesy film?"

"Sounds rad." He smiled, wrapping his coat around himself to keep warm. They walked to the end of Frank's street. The cars racing past were blinding red and white lights, and they splashed up water from the gutter so they made sure to keep away.

It was when an icy gust of wind almost froze Frank's eyes permanently open that he asked, "Aren't you cold?"

Gerard glanced at him out the corner of his eye, mostly focused on when to cross the busy road. "Actually, not really."

"How are you not? I'm freezing my arse off."

He laughed quietly, and Frank nudged him with his shoulder. "My body gets cold, but I don't feel it."

"What do you mean?" Frank furrowed his brows.

Gerard took his hand out of his pocket. "Here." He pressed it to Frank's cheek, causing him to jump back. His hand was a literally a block of ice, but bright red and purple.

"Holy shit." He took Gerard's hand in both of his own, trying to get it warm as he was afraid it might actually fall off due to frostbite if he didn't. "That's fucking freeing."

Gerard smiled, gaze flicking towards their hands before back to the road. "Shall we cross?"

"Yup."

They didn't bother looking both ways and relied on their hearing instead. Luckily, neither of them got run over and they speed walked across safely. Frank's house wasn't too far from the centre of town, and it only took a little over fifteen minutes to get there. However, with the snow pelting against them, it felt like much longer.

"Where do you want to go first?" Gerard asked as he stared at all the different neon signs flashing in the darkness.

For the festive holiday, there were fairy lights strung from shop to shop, complete with little trees decorated with tinsel, which were stood outside a few of them -well, some of them had toppled over.

They wandered in to the shopping centre, being greeted by reindeer, a Santa and a sled hanging from the ceiling. Honestly, Frank was a little scared to walk underneath it in case it dropped and squashed him, but he wasn't about to admit that to Gerard.

Besides _oh my God I'm out with Gerard_ spinning around in his head, there were also the dreaded thoughts of _what if we get caught? What if someone from school sees us? What if another teacher from school sees us? What if Gerard's boyfriend sees us?_ Though he wasn't too worried about that last one because surely Bert would know where Gerard was on Christmas Eve?

"What's wrong?" Gerard questioned, somewhat worried about Frank's stern expression.

"What?" Frank shook his head. "Nothing. I'm just. . . Thinking of where we should go."

Gerard didn't buy it. He read Frank's mind. "I'm a little worried, too, you know? I mean, we should be fine. . . I think. I'm not clear on the rules of student-teacher relationships."

"Me neither." Frank swallowed the lump in his throat. "We should be fine." He voiced more to himself to settle his hyperactive nerves.

He scanned the shopping centre, briefly forgetting about his anxieties when he saw a tunnel. It was one of those ones that have fairy lights on the walls and the top, intended to allow the customer to see what the fairy lights look like lit up and in use, but Frank just loved to wander through them because they were so pretty.

"Look!" He beamed, grabbing Gerard's hand to pull him towards it. Frank ignored the puzzled expression on the salesman's face when they ran in, and headed straight for the flashing lights.

Gerard grinned, picking a small glowing decorative reindeer off of a shelf. "This is cute."

Frank turned to look at him. The coloured lights reflected in Gerard's eyes, casting patterns on his face, and Frank just smiled. "Yeah," He muttered, "Cute."

Gerard swapped the reindeer for a snowman. "I shouldn't be allowed to have a bank account. I'd buy everything here."

"That's the fun part of Christmas, though, you get to spend money on pointless festive things because they're cool."

"Yeah," Gerard sighed, putting the snowman down. "I just can't afford to do that."

Frank frowned. He would have bought Gerard anything he wanted, but he couldn't get the words to form. They just stuck at the back of his throat, staying there in case of embarrassment if they came out.

"Sorry." Gerard gave a weak smile. "I shouldn't talk about anything that could put a downer on things. Today is about you."

"Me?" Frank was glad the lights made it hard to see him blushing.

"Well, yeah? I'm cheering you up because-" He paused, taking Frank's feelings in to consideration. "You know why. . ."

Frank nodded. "And I can't thank you enough."

A redness tinted Gerard's cheeks, and he pretended to be distracted by the lights, though it wasn't that hard to pretend.

Frank was about to melt. Gerard was so beautiful with his tangled hair, chapped lips, and wide hazel eyes, which gleamed fucking golden. His stupid crush was begging to be more of an annoyance; he couldn't _have_ Gerard. He could only gaze at him from a distance. With his crush came curiosity as he started to wonder whether Gerard had any romantic feelings for him at all. Maybe, just maybe he did. Otherwise, why would Gerard have put his career on the line to take him -only a student- out for Christmas? Or maybe he was just a super nice person? Or was he just doing it out of pity?

Frank's smile faltered.

"Hey," Gerard caught his attention. "Where else do you want to go?"

"Oh, uhm." They exited the tunnel, giving Frank time to think. There was a stall selling little gifts such as calendars, sketchbooks and diaries near the other end of the centre. Frank squinted, spotting the Green Day calendar, then the Twenty-One Pilots calendar. "There." He grinned.

Unfortunately, as they got closer, the crowd around the seemed to grow bigger. He wasn't exactly the tallest person in the world, so Frank instantly felt like he was five years old. He reached for Gerard's hand to reassure himself, but he wasn't there.

"Shit." Frank muttered, panic creeping up on him. He despised crowds. Everyone was moving so fast, urgent to finish their late present shopping, and Frank was fighting against them, trying to get out. They were a huge tidal wave and Frank was practically drowning.

Just when his anxiety doubled, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whipped around, expecting to see someone to ask him if he knew where his mummy and daddy was. But no, thankfully, it was Gerard.

"Gee." Frank breathed.

"Are you okay?"

"I lost you." He said pathetically, hating how he sounded. He took a deep breath, focusing on their shoes.

"I'm sorry." Gerard was genuine, calming Frank a little. "I got distracted by mince pies."

This caught Frank's attention. Straightening his slouched shoulders, his eyes fell upon the little paper box he was holding out to him. He grinned, still not believing this night was real, and this gesture just made him think he was dreaming even more.

"I got you one." Gerard smiled and Frank just about exploded for the billionth time that day.

"Thank you." _He's so sweet_ , Frank thought. He took the mince pie gratefully. It was warm in his icicles for fingers. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, don't worry."

"They were free?"

Gerard chuckled, "No, it's a gift, you idiot."

"Oh," Frank blushed.

Half way through eating their mince pies, Gerard spoke up, abandoning his for a moment as he dug around in his pocket.

"Hey," He said, tugging the sleeve of Frank's jacket. "I have an idea. Can I have your phone?"

Frank furrowed his brows, "Why?"

"I'm going to put my number in it."

Raising his eyebrows, Frank repeated, "Why?" Though he wasn't complaining.

"If you get lost, you can call or text me." He paused, hoping he didn't sound too forward. "I don't want you to panic if something like that but worse happens again."

"Something worse is going to happen?" He scoffed and Gerard narrowed his eyes at him.

"You know what I mean. Please?" He added.

"Yeah, sure." Frank fished out his own phone, handing it to Gerard. That was the easiest he'd ever gotten anyone's number that he had a crush on. He couldn't wait to text Gerard the most random things.

After he was done, Frank texted him to made sure it worked, and indeed it did.

-

When they'd traipsed around all the fancy shops, ducked in to cosy cafes to hide from the bitter air, and just about frozen their toes off, they returned to Frank's house -much to Frank's disappointment. Albeit, Gerard was slightly disappointed too. They'd both had a lot more fun than they would have had sat at home.

"Thank you." Frank beamed, sure he'd said it a million times that night.

It was quite late by now, the moon shining above them and illuminating the clouds around it.

"You're welcome." Gerard smiled.

Frank stopped at his door, turning around to face him. Gerard had snowflakes in his hair, his cheeks were red, and his eyes - _God his eyes_ \- were just so. . . _Pretty_. Frank couldn't think of a word better as his stomach was practising gymnastics.

It felt like they were coming to the end of a spectacular date, and Frank, God forbid, actually subconsciously leaned in to kiss him. Gerard didn't move away, but Frank would never know if Gerard would have kissed him back because he quickly made it out like he was going in for a hug instead.

Frank's heart was pounding, he was surprised Gerard couldn't feel it against his chest. "Thank you." He whispered, pressing his face in to Gerard' shoulder.

"Again," Gerard replied. "You're welcome."

[Published 14 November 2019]


	24. Chapter 24

On Christmas day, Gerard was so happy, he might have just spontaneously combusted.

In the morning, Gerard was a little ticked off to be woken up so early, but Bert had pestered him in to actually answering the door. "Go see what it is, or I'll open it and throw a brick at them."

Gerard would have retorted with, "Where are you going to get a brick from, smarty pants?" Though he was too tired to put in the effort.

Hair in knots, eyeliner smudged and eyes half closed, Gerard traipsed downstairs.

When he answered the door, he was extremely surprised and glad to see his brother's face staring back at him.

"Mikes!" He grinned, tackling him in to a hug.

"I told you he'd still be in bed." Ray snickered as he came up behind them, letting himself in the house.

"It's not my fault he used to be an early riser." Mikey replied as he pulled away from Gerard, who didn't miss a beat and ambushed Ray in a hug too.

"What the fuck is going on-?" Bert yawned as he trudged downstairs, clearly confused and also not a morning person.

"Mikey and Ray came down from New York." Gerard beamed, taking Bert's hand and leading him in to the kitchen, which was where everyone seemed to be gathering.

"And we're not your only surprise." Ray smiled, raising his eyebrows at Gerard as he nodded towards the door.

Furrowing his brows, Gerard turned around, and was met with the smiling faces of their parents. "Mum, dad!" He practically charged at them, wrapping his arms around them both -though it was hard as they were carrying huge sparkly bags, with objects in them that looked suspiciously like presents.

"You came?" He couldn't stop smiling.

"You thought we wouldn't?" His mother chuckled, bustling through the door and shaking the snow off her scarf. "It's good to see you, Gerard."

"We couldn't miss seeing you." His father said, receiving another warm hug from Gerard, who didn't say anything, just grinned like a Cheshire cat.

His father placed the bags under the Christmas tree as his mother dumped some other bags on the table, which she announced had frozen food in them for the dinner she planned to make.

Gerard's parents were slightly surprised to see that he was still dating Bert, but they didn't say anything that could jeopardize the cheery atmosphere they had going.

Mikey and Ray had brought a CD they'd made themselves with all their favourite songs on it, and claimed, "we have to play it because it's a Christmas CD." Everyone knew fine well that there were obviously no Christmas songs on it –well, save for Mariah Carrey's All I Want For Christmas is You, which Gerard sang along to way too loudly and proudly for someone who says they only like heavy rock.

While their mother had been busy in the kitchen, getting help from Bert, who did his best to make friendly conversation because he wanted to make Gerard happy, the Way brother's, their father, and Ray were playing monopoly in the living room.

Obviously, Gerard was the one to badger them in to playing that particular board game because he always won. However, it also resulted in him getting cards thrown at him as they thought he rigged the game in his favour somehow.

It was awfully typical; playing Monopoly as the fire crackled and the lovely smell from the kitchen wafted in, making them all extremely hungry. But none of them cared. It was wonderful.

By half five, they were still arguing over the game, and dinner was finally finished. All through the day, Ray, Gerard and Mikey had been eyeing the presents under the tree, trying to calculate which were who's from a distance.

A drying towel over his shoulder, Bert strolled in to the living room. "Dinner." He said, then took Gerard's hands and pulled him up off the floor, where he'd been crouched all day. He smiled as he wrapped an arm around his waist, drawing him in close.

"Keep it PG, guys." Mikey ordered as he walked past with the others, clapping Gerard on the shoulder.

Bert kissed Gerard lightly on the nose, causing him to blush and giggle quietly. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve Bert being in such a pleasant mood.

"What do you think?" Bert smirked. "Shall we keep it PG?"

Gerard draped his arms around Bert's neck. "For now."

-

There was this annoying, nagging thought at the back of Gerard's head. He hadn't seen Mikey in almost a year, so he knew he'd look different, but that was it: Mikey didn't look so much different as he did ill. There were faint dark circles around his eyes, his hair appeared thin, though it could have been the gel he'd put in it to keep it slicked back.

Regardless, Gerard had attempted to ignore that feeling all day because he wanted to have a good Christmas. And he had.

The most unlikely of duos, Bert and his mother, had cooked a delicious dinner; they'd all torn open presents from each other, and none of them were disappointed as they knew one another so well; they'd watched It's a Wonderful Life, requested by their mother, who'd insisted, "it's a Christmassy film, it's appropriate!" The rest of them had groaned because they would have preferred Star Wars, but they'd complied to keep her joyful.

When it was pitch black, it was Gerard's great idea to go walking in the snow around Jersey. Inevitably, they'd had the world's most competitive and epic snowball fight, though his mother opted out and watched instead. It'd been very entertaining.

Late at night, their parents had left to stay at a nearby hotel –there wasn't nearly enough room to accommodate six people in that house. Mikey and Ray were sharing the spare bedroom, Mikey and on the bed, Ray on the floor.

By now, everyone else was asleep so Gerard sneaked downstairs. Blindly, he searched for his phone, then scrolled through the contacts to find Frank's.

-

Lousy. That was what Frank's Christmas had been. Goddamn lousy.

At midday, he'd received a video call from Brendon, and they'd spent around two hours catching up on all the things they'd missed. Though it cheered Frank up a little, he was still left feeling empty once they'd had to hang up –apparently Brendon had a family and a boyfriend to get back to. _Lucky bastard_ , Frank had thought bitterly.

Frank's parents had called at random times in the day, wishing him a merry Christmas and all that jazz, but they both knew it didn't make up for not being there.

Instead of celebrating with friends or family, Frank had spent the day decorating the tree (he'd procrastinated doing it) with obnoxious coloured tinsel and fairy lights that'd taken what felt like years to untangle. He'd watched a million of the Friends and The Big Bang Theory episodes, but he barely laughed at any of the jokes.

Just as Frank had about given up on being awake and flopped in to bed, his phone rang. Huffing, he snatched his phone off the floor, half hanging off the side of the mattress as he answered, putting it to his ear. "Hello?" He asked, voice raspy and already thick with sleep.

"Hey."

"Gerard." Frank blinked, scrambling to sit upright on his mattress. He'd know that high pitched fucking voice anywhere.

"Frankie." That made Frank's heart jump.

"W-what's up?" He cleared his throat, doing his best to sound natural –like he hadn't been totally caught off guard and wasn't having a minor freak out.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late, and I was worried I'd wake you. . . Have I woken you?"

Frank smiled, just knowing Gerard was biting his lip anxiously. "No," He leaned back against the wall, "You didn't wake me." Even if he had, he wouldn't have minded.

"Oh good," He let out a breath, "I would have called earlier, but it's been hectic around here." He added quickly, "In a good way."

A long pause. Frank took the chance to listen to Gerard's breathing.

"I, uhm, I wanted to wish you a merry Christmas."

Frank's heart imploded, thundering in his ears. "Merry Christmas to you, too." He couldn't help but grin like a mad man. "How was your day?"

"Wonderful." Gerard said. "We went for a walk before. Jersey is so pretty when it's dark and the whole place lights up. It looks quite magical."

"Sounds like you had fun." He sighed, admittedly somewhat jealous.

Gerard nodded even though they couldn't see each other. "How-how did you spend your day?"

"Watching Friends and chilling with my Christmas tree." He deadpanned.

"Your parents didn't come after all?"

"Not unless they're invisible." He joked, though it came out cold. It was hard to act positive about it when he was pissed.

"Frank, I'm so sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault they didn't show up." He snapped, scowling at the floor, then immediately regretted it. Gerard was silent and Frank felt like he'd drop-kicked a puppy. "I'm sorry." He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You didn't deserve that."

"No, it's okay." God, Gerard was the sweetest person on earth. "You can say anything as long as it makes you feel better. I'm here for you, you know?"

Again, Frank could hear his heart beating in his ears. "Thank you." He was disappointed that he couldn't just grab Gerard right now, and hug the fuck out of him –and maybe steal a kiss. "I should go. . ." He said hesitantly. "I'm going to try and get some sleep."

"I hope your parents burst through your door at the last minute with stacks of presents and apologies."

"Hopefully." Frank chuckled.

"I'll see you after the holidays."

"See you." And with that he hung up.

[Published 18 November 2019]


	25. Chapter 25

The holidays were over. Frank had only seen his parents once, and even then, they only came home for changes of clothes, and to give him some money, "you can buy your own present. I'm sorry we didn't have time to go shopping."

 _Bullshit_. Frank knew they couldn't even buy him a present if they had the time because they didn't know him at all. Honestly, they probably didn't even know his personality. He could bleach his hair, style it in to a Mohawk and they wouldn't even notice.

Frank was just so fed up. Sometimes, he wanted to leave. He wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere where he wouldn't only be waiting for his parents to come home, somewhere where he could _live_. Though that definitely wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Although that portion of his life completely sucked, he'd texted Gerard more times than he probably should have. Mostly, it was just random crap he came up with as he didn't have anyone else to tell or to share his thoughts. Every time, Gerard never failed to text a reply, even if it was a little late. He always answered, and that secured safety in Frank's mind because at least he could count on _someone_.

Frank had wondered if things would be different between he and Gerard. They'd been texting, and Frank was a lot more confident over text, so he hoped his usual anxiety-filled state wouldn't be a let-down.

Though he had a plan. Well, not exactly a _plan_ , but he didn't know what else to call it. Basically, he'd concocted a list of questions to ask Gerard. Seeing as his crush obviously wasn't going to just disappear any time soon, he supposed he should get to know the guy a little better.

Currently, Gerard was stood at his desk, flicking through student's books and making a pile of the ones he had to mark, which was annoyingly taller than the completed stack. His hair was in his eyes and Frank itched to run his fingers through it to tie it back. Instead, he fidgeted in his seat, hands in his hoodie pockets, going over what he was going to say in his head. It took a while.

Thankfully, there was no one else in the art department, so they had the two rooms to themselves.

Finally, he gathered the courage and took a deep breath. "Okay, Mr Way, I have some questions for you."

"Do you really?" Gerard glanced up, brows furrowed. "About what?"

Taking his lip ring between his teeth, Frank muttered, "You." He looked over at Gerard, searching for a reaction.

"Me?" He wrinkled his nose, extremely puzzled. "Why?"

"Well. . ." He couldn't think of a way to say it without making his feelings blatantly evident. He hoped Gerard was utterly oblivious when it came to people flirting with him –not that Frank was _flirting_. He shifted in his chair. "I want to get to know you."

"You do know me."

"No," Frank fought back a nervous laugh, "I mean like stupid little details." Gerard just smiled, and God, Frank wished he knew what he was thinking. It'd make this a whole lot easier. "Okay, not _stupid_ details." He sighed, leaning forwards on the table. "But you know, things like: what's your favourite colour?"

"You know my favourite colour." Gerard stated, narrowing his eyes. He was making this unnecessarily hard for Frank, who shot him a challenging glare.

"Blue, yes, I know-"

"And your favourite colour is sunset orange."

" _Gee_." Frank whined, dragging out the nickname, earning raised eyebrows from Gerard. He paused for a moment, allowing it to sink in that Gerard had remembered a small detail about him. "Let me continue with my childish interview."

"You never started your childish interview." He retorted, a smirk on his face, which made Frank want to whack the book he was holding right out of his hands.

" _Oh my God_." He groaned, shooting daggers at him. " _Gerard,_ shh."

" _Frankie_." He mocked in the same tone, unable to keep the sly grin from spreading across his lips. Admittedly, he was enjoying agitating him.

If he could reach, Frank would have slapped a hand over his mouth. He huffed, and spoke like he was to someone incompetent, "Can I start now? With your permission, _sir_?"

Abandoning the student's books, Gerard hopped on to the table Frank was sat at, putting his feet on the chair beside him, one leg crossed over the other. Frank moved back a bit to avoid having to stare at Gerard's knees. "If you want." He shrugged, resting his head on his hand.

Frank blinked, a little surprised. He could feel Gerard's stare burning the side of his head. "Alright," He cleared his throat for emphasis and pulled forward the list he'd had hidden under his pencil case. Maybe it was a tad creepy-looking.

Gerard cocked his head to the side, eyebrows lost in his fringe. "You wrote a _list_? I'm flattered."

"Hey, don't judge." He was sure his face was bright red, but tried not to think about it, otherwise his confidence would have disappeared entirely. Getting his mouth to form the words was difficult enough.

"I'm not." Gerard chuckled. "I'm just confused. Are you going to be doing this with all your teachers?"

"Just the special ones." Frank grinned, then quickly darted his gaze away.

"Aww," Gerard smiled, eyes shining. "I'm special?"

"'Course you are." Frank blurted out, a deep blush blooming on his cheeks. He didn't dare look at Gerard, because if he did, he'd implode –violent butterflies were already gnawing at his insides. "Now, shh."

As he was about to speak, he was interrupted again. "If you can ask questions, can I?"

"Yeah," Frank nodded. "This is a two way thing." He had to squint at the first question as this whole conversation was making his head spin. "Who's your favourite superhero?"

"Wolverine." Gerard didn't miss a beat. "From the X-Men films."

"Oh, yeah?"

"He has fantastic hair. . ." He muttered thoughtfully, staring up at the art posters on the wall. "And claws. . . I like that he's part animal, but it's not too obvious." He almost added, _it's hot, to be honest_ , but caught the words in his throat.

If Frank was correct, Gerard seemed to have a minor crush on Wolverine, or Hugh Jackman, or both –probably both. "Wolverine is pretty badass."

Gerard flicked his eyes towards Frank, who held his gaze for a moment before caving and glancing away. "Who's your favourite?"

"Uhm," Frank mumbled, slightly shocked that he took an interest, though he shouldn't have been by now. "Does Deadpool count?"

He shrugged. "I guess so? I mean, he's never killed anyone who's good. Only the bad guys."

"And he's fucking hilarious." Frank commented, which earned a small giggle from Gerard that made his heart stutter.

"That too."

"How about favourite villain?"

Gerard tapped his foot. "Definitely the Joker. He's the only reason I watched The Dark Knight. Batman sucks."

"You don't like Batman?" Frank's jaw dropped.

"He has no real superpowers!" He said defensively, holding his hands up in surrender. "He's totally useless."

"He's strong?" He suggested, trying to argue, though Gerard brought up a fair point.

"Doesn't that come with the suit?"

Sighing, Frank slouched in his chair, chewing his cheek, "I don't know."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Gerard frowned. "Did I just ruin Batman for you?"

"Nah." He waved a hand dismissively. "It's fine, I didn't really watch the movies anyway." Staring at his hands, he added, "What about Darth Vader?"

Gerard seemed offended. "No way! Joker rules over all. He's just insane, and I love that."

"Even though he doesn't have powers, either? And he doesn't have a suit?"

"He doesn't need superpowers. Gotham is scared of the Joker because he doesn't really have control of his own mind, and fear is just as powerful as a suit, I think."

"Touché." He resisted the urge to do something ridiculous, like finger guns, which weren't appropriate anyway, but he didn't know what to do with his hands. He shoved them in his pockets. "What-" He was cut off when Gerard held up a hand as if he was in class.

"Can I read a question off the list?" He asked sheepishly, outstretching his hand to Frank, who hesitantly passed him the paper.

"My writing is bad." He pressed his lips in to a thin line. "So I'll be surprised if you can read it."

"Oh, don't worry." Gerard chuckled, brushing his hair behind his ears. "My bother has the worst writing in the world. I'm sure I can read yours."

"I didn't know you had a brother." Frank said. A small part of him wondered whether this brother was as attractive as Gerard, but he swiftly dismissed that thought because Gerard pretty damn attractive, and honestly Frank didn't think anyone could compare. Or maybe he was too caught up in his crush and enthralled by him, though he didn't care. He could say it; Gerard was hot.

"Yeah. . ." Gerard murmured, his voice bringing Frank back to reality. "Do you?"

Shaking his head, he blinked. "Do I what?"

"Have any siblings?"

"Nope." He popped the 'p' with a short laugh. "I'm all alone."

Gerard looked at him sadly before composing himself and continuing in a joking manner, "You wouldn't want one, anyway. You see, it's their job to make your life hell, which they do oh so perfectly." He rolled his eyes, then carried on in a softer tone. "I do love my brother, though, and he's done a lot for me, so. . . I don't know." He fought off the overwhelming feeling that came with remembering the past. "Would you want any siblings?"

"I'm not sure." Frank chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. "Not based on your description of it being 'hell'."

"You never know," Gerard tilted his head to the side. "Hell could be just as nice as heaven. Or nicer."

"Do you believe in that stuff?" Frank asked as Gerard set the list down, then slid off the table, returning to his desk.

"Heaven and hell?" He furrowed his brows, glancing at Frank, who nodded. "Not really."

"Me neither." He laughed. "But I wouldn't be surprised if my parents thought I worshipped the devil." Gerard shot him a quizzical look, so he explained. "They think my music is satanic and depressing. I don't think it is. I know they only say it because it doesn't conform to society, and isn't robotic and meaningless, like," He shrugged -he really didn't listen to the music in the charts. "I don't know. Nicki Minaj?"

Gerard started on the pile of books he had to mark. "I agree." He said, chewing on the end of his pen. "The music in the charts is shit."

"Apart from when bands like HIM, Twenty One Pilots and Green Day make it in to the top ten." He had to make an effort not to glance at Gerard's lips- God, it was unfair. "But that rarely happens."

"Do you want me to put some music on?"

Frank grinned, "Sisters of Mercy?"

"I thought you didn't know them?" He began typing on the keyboard.

"I didn't. But I liked that song you sang of theirs, so I decided to download some of their stuff."

"Awesome." Gerard smiled. "Any requests?"

"When You Don't See Me." It was the one Gerard sang on his birthday, and Frank mostly suggested it because he hoped Gerard would start singing along and he'd get to hear his voice.

The world must have been working in his favour because Gerard did indeed sing, and Frank may or may not have stared when he was too deep in thought to notice. Man, he wished Gerard wasn't his teacher in moments like this.

-

**I'm sorry if this chapter sucks.**

[Published 26 November 2019]


	26. Chapter 26

Again, like Frank had a personal grumpy cloud that followed him everywhere, it was raining; not the snow that he'd prayed for. Ever since it dropped below freezing, he was hoping it'd snow hard, and he'd get a day off school. But, no.

Due to this weather, Frank was actually considering shaving his hair off because when he showed up for school that morning, it was in absolute tangles. Rapunzel probably didn't even know the struggle.

Luckily, he got in at twenty to eight, so he had time to attempt to sort it out. He didn't own a comb –a mistake he now hated himself for- and there probably wasn't one in the art rooms. That was unless Gerard had one hidden somewhere, but going by how wild Gerard's hair was, Frank bet he didn't.

The only warning Gerard gave of his presence when he entered the room while Frank was distracted, glaring at the mirror, was a supressed laugh. "Nice hair." He slipped his satchel off his shoulder, setting it on the desk with a dull thud –his laptop was in there.

Startled, Frank jumped, quickly pulling his hood over his head. "I could say the same to you." He retorted, though Gerard suited his unruly hair, and he didn't. Unfair, or what.

Gerard just smiled. "How was your morning?"

"Well," Frank sighed, sliding on to the counter next to the sink, only just avoiding sitting on paintbrushes. "You can guess." He gestured to his current dishevelled state, flailing his arms about in annoyance.

"If only force fields existed." He shook off his denim jacket, hanging it over the back of the chair. "Then we could defend ourselves against the wind."

"I hope that technology'll exist in the future –while we're still alive- as long as the robots don't rise up and take over the world."

Gerard chewed his lip. "I don't think that'll happen any time soon. I mean, my laptop barely works so I don't think it could kill me."

Kicking his legs back and forth, Frank smiled, "That's why I said in the future."

"Still." He pressed his lips in to a thin line, one corner of his mouth twitching up in to half a smile.

Huffing, Frank twisted around to check his hair in the mirror. It was still matted as hell. He raked his fingers through it, trying to get the knots out, but it only pulled on the strands of his hair, and it hurt. "This sucks." He whined.

Eyes flicking over to Frank, Gerard got an idea. "I can help you."

"How?"

"I can plait it?" He shrugged, receiving a very confused expression. "Or not?"

Hopping off the counter, he wandered over to him as he untangled his fingers from his hair. "Are you serious?"

"No?" Gerard chuckled, slightly nervous as he now felt like he was under a spotlight. "I was only joking."

It was quite a girly thing to do, he supposed. Frank had never seen anyone but a girl with plaits in their hair, and he didn't like the idea of possibly being bullied throughout the day for having a girlish hairstyle. Though he thought it'd be rather funny to have Gerard style his hair, so he hesitantly agreed. "Okay."

"Okay what?" Gerard furrowed his brows.

"You can plait my hair."

"Really?" He was a bit more eager than he should have been.

"Yeah." He nodded, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. Mostly, Frank just wanted to be able to sit there for however long it took while Gerard ran his fingers through his hair. Truth be told, the mere thought of it sent tingles down his spine.

"Alright." Gerard blinked. He hadn't really been expecting that answer. He moved to sit on top of one of the tables, putting his feet on either side of a chair. He gestured, "Sit here. It'll be easier for me than if we were level with each other."

Frank nodded awkwardly. The way they were positioned meant he was sat between Gerard's legs and his blush only deepened.

When Gerard's fingers came in to contact with his neck as he went to brush his hair back, Frank jumped. "Your hands are freezing!" He encased Gerard's hands in his own, trying to warm them up.

"Sorry." He smiled weakly.

"Why the fuck are you always so cold?"

"I have bad blood circulation." That earned an even more puzzled look, so he continued, "My blood doesn't really reach my hands or feet, so they're pretty much always cold."

"Jesus." Frank looked at Gerard's fingers, the ends were tinted a faint purple. "You should wear gloves, or something."

"It's fine." Gerard shrugged. "I don't feel it."

"Are you sure?" He knew it probably wasn't his business, but he would have liked if he could do something to help with it. "What if you got frostbite? Would you know?" He asked curiously.

"I think I'd feel _that_." Gerard chuckled. "I'd realise if my limbs started falling off."

"Good to know." Frank nodded, switching his gaze to Gerard's eyes, which were looking right back at him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he slowly let go of his hands, then settled comfortably in the chair. "You can carry on. I'll get used to it."

-

The feeling of having Gerard play with his hair was sending shivers running down his spine, which then made him involuntarily shudder, which Gerard would then quietly chuckle at. Frank didn't know if Gerard knew he was the cause of his chills, and he kind of hoped he didn't.

A few times, Frank would lean in to him –mainly because Gerard kept pulling his hair back, but a little because he was so relaxed and just wanted to close his eyes, rest his head on Gerard's chest and fall asleep.

Also, Frank was impressed. "How are you so good at this?" He eventually asked.

Gerard bit his lip. "Promise you won't laugh at me?"

"I won't." He held out his pinkie. "Promise." Gerard linked their fingers, then quickly returned to his hair, and Frank could hear him rolling his eyes.

"Alright." Gerard took a deep breath. "I used to plait my own hair."

"You what?" A grin spread across his lips.

Whining, Gerard frowned, "You said you wouldn't laugh."

"And I'm not," he held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just surprised." He paused, chewing his cheek. "Well, actually I'm not. . . You're a bit feminine."

"Hey," He pouted, "I am not."

"It's not a bad thing." Frank reassured, shrugging his shoulders. Honestly, he liked the fact Gerard wasn't butch or like the usual typical guy, because he wasn't a typical guy.

It was silent for a while before Gerard spoke up again. "I can be manly." He stated, though he didn't sound very sure.

At that, Frank did laugh. "Okay."

"I can!" He nudged him in the thigh with his foot.

"Oh, yeah?" He swivelled around in his seat, and Gerard had to almost lean over him to keep his hair in place so he didn't have to start all over again. "Prove it."

Furrowing his brows, Gerard motioned for Frank to turn around again, which he did. "How?"

"I don't know?"

Now, Gerard had an answer, but it wasn't exactly suitable to say in school, however they were friends and no one else was around yet, so he said it anyway. "Well, I've got a dick and that's as manly as you can get."

Frank snorted, almost falling off his chair. Raising his eyebrows, he fought back the laughter and shock in his throat, then challenged, "Have you?"

"Yes, but I' not proving that, so you'll have to take my word for it."

"I don't have to take your word for it." Frank smirked. "I've seen you in tight jeans."

Eyes wide, Gerard's face went bright red. "Frank!" He breathed, smacking his arm playfully. He was practically on fire.

"What?" He snickered, hitting Gerard on the shin as payback. "It's not like I was looking."

"Then, how do you know?"

Frank sighed, rolling his eyes. "It's a given, Gee, they're _tight_ jeans."

"Still." Gerard huffed. "You do makeup."

He bit his lip. "Touché."

-

"All done." Gerard beamed. To secure Frank's hair, he'd used an elastic band from one of the desk drawers. It worked fine, but it was probably going to get tangled in his hair and going to hurt like a bitch when taken out.

Frank traced the plait with his fingers. It was smooth and neatly done; he was stunned. He stood up and wandered over to the mirror, checking it out.

"It suits you." Gerard commented, pushing the chair under the table.

"Ha." Frank deadpanned, though he couldn't help but grin because it kind of did. "No it doesn't."

"It does." He raised his eyebrows. "Don't argue."

"I have to argue." Frank chuckled. Gerard went to reply, looking like he had an answer full of sass, but the bell shrieked above their heads before he could utter anything.

"Shit!" Frank exclaimed. He had English first, and that was on the other side of the building. Grabbing his bags, he hurried towards the door. He vaguely heard Gerard call "goodbye" after him as he left, but the blood pounding in his ears blocked out most of the noise. He was terrified of being late.

-

Most of the day had passed, and Frank had heard whispers. They probably weren't about him, but his anxiety told him otherwise.

It was 6th period now, meaning he had art, so he was expecting Gerard to come in to the middle room, though Brendon walked in instead. That was extremely weird as they hadn't talked in weeks. Frank had no idea what to say.

"Hey, princess." Brendon greeted cheerfully.

Frank managed a meagre smile. "Hey." There was an awkward pause.

"I like this." He said as he stood behind Frank, examining his hair. "Who did it?"

"Uhm," Frank mumbled, then frowned. Was that possibly the only reason Brendon had come to see him at all? To ask about his hair? "Me?"

He furrowed his brows. "Really? Cool." Shrugging his shoulders, he slid in to the seat next to him. "Mind if I sit in here to do my art?"

Confused, Frank nodded. _Why_ are _you here?_ he thought.

Unfortunately, his question never got answered. Yes, Brendon talked, but it was about random nonsense, and truthfully, Frank barely listened as he was concentrated trying to answer the question himself.

Honestly, Brendon was only there because he missed him.

[Published 27 November 2019]


	27. Chapter 27

Frank wanted to scream. So he did.

"I can't do this!" He whined, holding his head in his hands as he screwed his eyes shut.

Mock exams were at the start of February, meaning he didn't have a lot of time to revise. He has to memorise the analysis techniques for art, create a small piece of music for music (obviously) that lasts no longer than a minute, learn an essay for English, while also memorizing quotes from a book, revise for maths, and photography. Luckily, he didn't have a test for game development or religious studies.

At the moment, he was attempting to revise. Everyone had gone home for the day, so they were alone and free to listen to music. Bring Me the Horizon's new album was serving as background noise.

Startled, Gerard's head snapped up at the sound of Frank's voice. "What's wrong?"

"I can't remember all this shit." He huffed, gesturing to all the books he had piled up next to him. "My memory is well bad, I can't memorise, like, a million different things."

Another problem was that he was going to be forced to sit in a room with everyone else who took the same subjects, and that was going to be a lot of people. Frank couldn't cope with that on top of everything else.

Abandoning the tedious work on the computer, Gerard shuffled over to Frank, gripping the edge of the table as he leaned forwards slightly to talk to him. His hair fell over his eyes. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He chewed his cheek, "I think?" Gerard gazed at him with his hazel eyes, and Frank nearly forgot what he was going to say. "I, uh, if you could get me separate accommodation for the tests, that-that'd be great."

"I don't have all the power around here, you know?" Gerard replied, and Frank frowned.

"I know. . ." He sighed, throwing his pen in to his pencil case with as much anger as he could without it bouncing out again. "I just don't know who else to ask."

"You could go to Mr Foster?" Gerard suggested, though Frank didn't know who the hell that was. Was he supposed to?

"Who's that?"

"The school learning support teacher, I think." He ran his fingers through his hair, tucking it behind his ears.

Raising his eyebrows, Frank felt nervousness creep up on him. He didn't want to end up embarrassed because he went to the wrong person. "You _think_?"

"Hey," Gerard held his hands up in surrender. "I only started here a few months ago."

Sighing, Frank stared at the wall behind Gerard, who took pity and wanted to help as best he could.

"How about I go with you?" He shrugged, earning a small smile out of Frank because he was astounded by the amount of kindness this man had. "I can wait outside while you talk to him."

Frank nodded, "That'd be better. Thank you."

As they got up to go to where they supposed Mr Foster's office was, Gerard almost reached for Frank's hand, but quickly pulled back and shoved it in his pocket. He'd done it before some time ago, and he didn't really know why. Maybe it was automatic, though he didn't always hold Bert's hand when they went out.

They arrived at the right room- _thank God_ , Frank thought. It was hard to miss as the name was engraved on a plaque on the door. There was a vertical window too, so Frank peered through it. Mr Foster was sitting at a desk, back to the door, which Frank was also grateful for, because otherwise him staring in like that would have been awkward.

Hesitantly, Frank knocked on the door. Leaning against the wall, thumbs hooked through his belt loops, Gerard stood to the side as not to be seen.

Mr Foster turned around, gesturing for him to come in.

Taking a deep breath, Frank entered, putting one foot in as he held on to the side of the door. "Hi." He managed a smile.

"Hello."

They'd never met before, but Frank already liked him for some reason. He had a kind face, an undercut with his fringe flopping over is eyes, and he didn't seem to be much older than Gerard. Plus, Mr Foster had a small pride flag hung above his desk, and Frank guessed that was why he instantly felt comfortable around him.

Despite that fact, anxiety didn't go away. "I-I was-" He paused, clearing his throat. When he felt Gerard slip a hand in to his, squeezing it gently for reassurance, he relaxed somewhat. "I was wondering if I could have separate accommodation for the mock exams?"

Nodding, Mr Foster grabbed a stack of sticky notes and a pen to write it down, then glanced up at Frank. "Would that be easier for you than sitting in the hall?"

"Yeah. . ." He muttered. He hadn't been expecting it to be that simple.

"Can I have your name?"

"Frank. . . Iero." He discretely peeked at what Mr Foster was writing down, pleased when he spelled his last name correctly. Hardly anyone ever  did.

"I'll have to get back to you on the rooms you'll be in for the exams, alright?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

Mr Foster smiled, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Slowly, Frank shook his head. "Not that I can think of."

"I'll catch you up during lessons to discuss this, if that's okay?"

"It is." He felt a wave of relief wash over him, the nagging worry gone from his mind. "Thank you, bye." He walked out, allowing the door to close behind him, and let out the deep breath he'd been holding.

"You feel any better now?" Gerard asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, kind of proud.

Sighing contently, Frank nodded once. "A lot." Then his eyes flickered towards their hands, and he had to fight the grin that tried to overtake his face. _We're holding hands_ , he beamed internally.

Gerard followed Frank's gaze, quickly letting go. "Sorry." He muttered, causing Frank's heart to drop.

"No, it's okay." He said, wanting to link their fingers together again.

Biting his lip, Gerard darted his eyes to the floor. He seemed shy, or a little edgy now. "I-I can help you with your art."

They started to wander to 169a, and Frank wondered that if they were still holding hands, he'd be swinging their arms in unison with their footsteps.

"You know, for the exam."

"Thank you." Frank grinned, for what felt like the millionth time that day.

-

Annoyingly, when they'd arrived back at the art rooms, there had been other people there. Frank didn't expect them to be vacant all the time, but he always hoped regardless. Anyway, it was nearing half four, so they were late getting there, and he wondered what the hell they could be doing. Maybe they sensed he was happy and came to ruin his quiet evening with Gerard.

Of course, the other students had kept Mr Way preoccupied, to Frank's irritation and disappointment. He felt like a jealous boyfriend, and, perhaps in some ways, he was.

Either way, it was quarter past five and Frank hadn't seen Gerard in half an hour, though he supposed it wasn't that big of a deal. He just felt left out, and it brought back memories of what it was like in his old school.

"I'm sorry." Gerard said as he crouched beside Frank, who had his head on the table.

A little startled because he'd been daydreaming, he jumped. "What?" He rubbed his eyes.

"I told you I'd help you with your art, and I haven't."

"No, no," Frank shook his head, smiling lazily. "It's fine. They need help, too."

"Are you sure?"

It was then that Frank realised Gerard had put his hand on his knee, and he tried not to think about it. It was a friendly gesture, though any physical contact that Gerard gave him, he always blew out of proportion because he was desperate for Gerard to feel the same way he did. Frank had never had a crush before, but if this is how it felt, he didn't want one anymore.

"Yeah," He mumbled. "I'm sure."

[Published 2 December 2019]


	28. Chapter 28

Studying was going. . . Not so great. It was awfully tedious. If Frank could have loaded all his exams on to a clone of himself, he would have done, because he knew he was going to fail every single test. Perhaps if there was a test on procrastination, he'd win.

To his delight, Gerard had put Palaye Royale on as background noise. It didn't really help with concentration, but Frank didn't care. Rather than doing work, he lip-synced the lyrics, drumming his fingers on the desk enthusiastically. The only reason he'd stopped was because he'd realised Gerard was watching him, slightly amused.

"Why'd you stop?" Gerard frowned, resting his chin on his palm, elbow on the desk.

Frank narrowed his eyes playfully, "Because some creep was staring at me."

Raising his eyebrows, he scoffed, "I'm the creep?"

"Yes." He said seriously, though his smile gave him away. After a moments silence, glancing down at his unfinished work, he spoke up again, "Hey, can you help me with this?"

"What?" Gerard blinked, turning to face him.

"I can't sketch this hand." He huffed, slamming his pencil on the desk, frustrated. "They're so damn hard to draw."

"Practise." He stated, receiving a half hearted glare -Frank didn't like hearing that, and Gerard didn't particularly like saying it. "You can't expect to get it right the first time."

"I can, and I do."

Pressing his lips in to a thin line, Gerard narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn't answer.

It was quiet and they listened to the sound of the janitors bustling around in other classrooms, the hum of the computer monitors and the shouts of some students playing football outside in the dark. It was quite late.

Glaring intently at the paper, Frank attempted sketching again, but ended up rubbing it out more than once. Now he was a little more irritated, but that just morphed in to defeat. "Will you help me?" He pouted, giving his best puppy eyes to Gerard, who seemed to soften. "Pretty please?"

Sighing, Gerard smiled, "Of course." Shuffling over, he stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder as he picked up the pencil Frank had been using. As if it was the easiest thing in the world, Gerard drew effortlessly.

When he was done, he turned his head to face Frank, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Like that, you know?"

They were inches apart, their noses almost touching. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Frank hesitantly darted his eyes to Gerard's lips. He took a deep breath, eyelids feeling heavy.

All his pent up feelings seemed to rise to the surface. It was difficult to listen to reason because Frank had been basically pining after him for so long. And it was impossible for Gerard not to feel the same way -he took him out for Christmas, for crying out loud.

Slowly, Frank shook his head, "How about like this?" Casting away doubts, anxiety and any total sense he had, he felt confidence surge through his veins as he reached up, put a hand on the back of Gerard's neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

The moment their lips met, Frank melted, a burning and tingling sending jolts down his spine. After months, he finally did what he'd been dreaming of. It was as imagined; Gerard's lips were soft and-

He pulled away. Eyes wide, Gerard stumbled back. "What are you doing?" He murmured in a low voice. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and Frank could hear each shuddering breath he took.

However, that didn't matter. For a second before Gerard disconnected their lips, he'd felt him start to kiss back, and Frank wasn't about to throw away that chance. Only growing more sure, he stood up. "Something I've wanted to do for ages."

Admittedly enticing Frank further, Gerard had on a thin white shirt, a black striped tie, and skinny jeans. His denim jacket was hung over the back of a chair, so that was one less piece of clothing Frank had to worry about getting in the way.

Slowly, he walked towards Gerard, and soon had him backed against the wall, palms flat against it as if he was trying to pass through it.

"We-we can't." Gerard whispered, though his actions betrayed his words because his gaze dropped to Frank's lips.

Taking his piercing between his teeth, Frank grabbed a hold of Gerard's tie, tugging on it to close the gap between them. "Come on, Mr Way." He purred, placing a free hand on Gerard's chest, pinning him against the wall. He could feel his racing heartbeat.

Lips parted, Gerard looked at Frank with an almost animalistic stare. His hair fell over his glossy eyes, which were now nearly closed.

"Break the law for me." Frank leaned in to kiss him again, hand sliding up from his chest in to Gerard's wild hair -now he knew he had him.

This time, Gerard took no hesitation, their lips moving in sync. Eyes fluttering shut, he snaked his arms around Frank's waist to bring him in closer so they were pressed together, hearts pounding.

Smirking, Frank pulled away to breathe. Taking advantage of the fact he had the upper hand, he tugged on Gerard's hair, emitting quite a loud moan from him. That was literally the only noise he wanted to hear for the rest of his life, Frank decided.

"I-" Gerard whispered, resting his forehead on Frank's shoulder. "I should-" He was practically gasping and Frank enjoyed the fact he could make him feel that way.

"What?" His tone sounded just as desperate.

"Lock the door." Gerard finished, to which Frank nodded hurriedly. If anyone saw them, he had no clue what would happen, though he had a rough idea and didn't like the outcome.

Reluctantly, Frank untangled his fingers from Gerard's hair, allowing him to shut the art room doors.

Gerard locked them, turned around, then flashed a smile as he grabbed Frank's hand, pulling him up against him.

Using the tie to bring Gerard's lips down on his again, Frank went in to steal another kiss, but the bell rang above their heads, and, much to his horror, Gerard suddenly disappeared and he was left holding nothing. No tie, no black and teal hair, no cute pixie nose.

"What?" He blinked, glancing around.

Eyes snapping open, Frank shot up in bed, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin. All he could hear was his alarm clock ringing in his ears, so he slapped it off his bedside table.

"Fuck." He cursed, brushing his hair away from his face. So it hadn't really happened?

 _Bullshit_.

-

It felt weird. After kissing him like that- well, after dreaming of kissing him like that. Frank could barely manage to look Gerard in the eye. It was mainly because of the fact that his own brain had come up with it, and now he couldn't deny, not even to himself, that he wanted to kiss Gerard like mad.

That was why, all day on Monday, he'd only managed to say a meagre "hi" to him, then scuttle off in to the middle room and pretend he was busy. He half expected for Gerard to come in after a short while, but he didn't. Anyway, he always knew when Frank wanted some space.

However by last lesson when he had a solid hour with Gerard alone, he didn't have a choice to not interact.

As usual, Gerard was ignoring the existence of chairs, sat hunched over in the corner of the room by the bookshelf, sorting through people's artwork and past papers.

"Hey, Gee." He said, though it came out weaker than expected.

Gerard only just heard him. A smile on his face, he glanced up from what he was doing. "Hey, Frankie."

 _Fucking butterflies_ , he frowned, but truthfully, he loved the nickname. Then he wondered if Gerard had ever gotten butterflies in his stomach when he called him Gee.

"Do you need a time slot for parent's evening?" He asked as he stood, earning a confused expression.

"Parent's evening?"

"It's only in a few weeks. We had to give out the sheets during form today." He furrowed his brows, "Did you not get one?"

"I was with Mr Foster during form." He muttered, sliding his coat and bag off. He resisted the urge to stamp his foot like a child. "God, I'm behind on everything."

"No, no, it's okay." Shaking his head, he flitted through papers on his desk to find the one needed. Once he discovered it buried inconveniently underneath pretty much everything he owned, he passed it to Frank, who scanned the small instructions at the top. "I'll help you if you need it."

Nodding, Frank smiled, "Thank you."

"Here." Gerard brought out his own copy, skimming through the empty time slots. "I have 4:30 free?"

Frank chewed his cheek. He doubted very highly that his parents would even be able to make it to parent's evening. Even if they did, they'd probably arrive at the last second. "What's the latest you've got?"

"Uhm," Gerard bit his lip, allowing Frank to gaze shamelessly. He scratched behind his ear with the pencil he was holding and Frank was a little surprised it didn't get stuck in his thick hair. "Half six?"

"Yeah, that's great." He wrote _Mr Way_ in the box for that time slot. Honestly, he mostly wanted to visit Gerard later so he could stay longer. Normally, you only got five or ten minutes with each teacher, but if he saw Gerard last that meant they didn't have to rush.

"Wonderful." Gerard flashed him a smile, then turned away to return to beyond dull work.

-

It was quiet. Too quiet. Frank hadn't wanted to see Gerard at first, though now all the he wanted to do was talk -about literally anything. He just wanted to hear Gerard's voice because having him sit right across from him, within arm's reach, and not have any of his attention was annoying. He felt like a whiny teenager, but he didn't care.

"Gerard." He nudged him with his foot under the table.

Brows furrowed, he glanced up through his fringe. "What?"

 _Pay attention to me_. "Nothing." He shrugged, face heating up at the embarrassment that came with having bad human interaction skills.

Gerard laughed. "Wow."

"What?"

"You."

"Me?"

Leaning forwards, Gerard put his pencil between his lips like a cigarette. "You're supposed to be studying and you're procrastinating by kicking me under the table."

Frank narrowed his eyes playfully. "I didn't kick you."

"Yuh huh."

"I. . . Tapped you."

"Either which, you're procrastinating." He nodded towards the unfinished essay in Frank's English book.

"It's the only thing I'm good at." He stated, folding his arms over his chest as he slouched in his seat.

"Hey," It was his turn to 'tap' Frank with his foot, "That's not true."

A smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he looked away as a faint blush tinted his cheeks. That was nice to hear Gerard say something like that, even if he didn't believe it.

A minute or so went by and he felt Gerard's eyes bore in to the side of his head. "You're not answering because you know I'm right."

"Okay," Frank huffed, "You win, Mr Sassy Pants. I'm good at two things: eating and procrastination."

"Smart Ass." Gerard scowled jokingly. "You've got talent and you know it."

"I've got talent?" He raised his eyebrows, putting his elbows on the desk. " _You've_ got talent."

"I-"

"And don't you dare deny it because then you'd be doing the exact same thing I just did, and you told me off for it."

Scowling right back at him, Gerard pressed his lips together and didn't reply.

Frank grinned triumphantly. "Now I win."

[Published 11 December 2019]


	29. flirty gee

Exams were approaching faster than anyone would have liked. The first test Frank had was on the 2nd of February, and he so wasn't prepared, although Gerard had been ignoring his own work and was focusing on helping Frank more than he should have been.

Gerard had spent a lot of late nights at school, and even worked when he was at home, which did not bode well for his and Bert's relationship. More than once he'd been beaten, or yelled at because Bert insisted he didn't spend enough time with him, though he'd tried and he'd apologised, but the only consolation he got was from alcohol.

Frank had been falling asleep in classes, and daydreaming -mostly about Gerard, to be honest. More than once he'd been told off for being lazy when in reality he was mainly just exhausted. To be fair, everyone else was too.

On Friday of all days, when Frank tried to use the electric, it wouldn't work. The lights were useless, the fridge and freezer were best kept closed, and even attempting to make toast for breakfast was pointless.

At first, he supposed his parents hadn't paid the electric bill, so he tried to call them, but his phone had stopped charging during the night and was only on 15%.

Because it was a week day, and nothing exciting ever happened in Jersey, he guessed school was still going to be running. He got dressed in the dark, which was not easy, packed his bag in the dark, and had to try and feel his way around the maze of a house they had, which, again, was not easy.

The street lamps weren't working either. The shops were completely vacant and Frank could only hear this relentless buzzing noise. All of the power had gone out in Jersey.

Frank dug out his phone, then decided a good use of his battery would be to text Gerard: _what's going on?_ Obviously there was no immediate reply. On the way to school he kept checking his notifications and he still hadn't answered. _Maybe texting you back isn't his top priority_ , Frank told himself.

Upon arriving at school, he saw no one was there and it felt like he'd been teleported to the start of an apocalyptic world. Real life was too mundane for that, so he didn't think about it too much.

The doors to get in were automatic, meaning he was stuck outside in the wind freezing his arse off. There was absolutely no one to tell him if he should go home, and he stood by the wall, trying to shelter himself from the weather.

Luckily, there must have been some sort of generator, because the street lamps nearby the building were on, which meant he wasn't in total blackness.

"Boo." Someone whispered right by his ear, scaring the ever loving crap out of him. He jumped, whipping around to see none other than Gerard, who had a shit eating grin on his face.

"You're jumpy." Gerard teased, earning a scowl.

"I am when you creep up behind me in the _dark_." Frank retorted, breathing steadily to calm his heart rate down.

Even in this weather, Gerard didn't wear a coat apart from his waistcoat, but Frank wasn't sure that counted, and he wondered how Gerard wasn't freezing until he remembered the lucky fucker didn't really feel the cold.

"I thought we'd already established I'm a creep?" Gerard smirked, draping his arms around Frank's neck, bringing their lips dangerously close as he leaned in. "Sorry, darling, you'll have to get used to it."

Heart literally skipping a beat, Frank furrowed his brows. Was he dreaming again? He would have pinched himself to be sure, but that never worked in the films. "Gee. . ?"

"Yes?"

It was then that Frank caught a whiff of the alcohol in Gerard's breath and he grimaced, reluctantly taking Gerard's hands and untangling them from around his neck. Gerard's eyes were distant, like he wasn't really there, and he had a lazy smile spread across his face. Sure, Frank knew that Gerard drank, but he'd never seen him _drunk_.

"Come on." Frank wrapped an arm around Gerard's waist because he was certain if he didn't he'd topple over. "Let's get you inside."

Silently, Gerard nodded, allowing himself to be guided like a child. He put the back of his hand over his mouth, and Frank thought he might be sick, but nothing happened as they traipsed up the stairs -they'd had to use the fire exit that Gerard had used to get out and had propped open with a heavy rock from only God knew where.

It would have been pitch black in the art rooms if it weren't for the bright street lamps flooding a yellow light in. They could barely make out the outlines of the furniture, which made taking care of Gerard a whole lot harder.

"Is school on?" Frank asked as he sat Gerard down in a chair, wondering if the intelligent part of his brain still worked under the influence.

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Who else is here?" Frank grabbed Gerard's denim jacket and helped him in to it. Even though he didn't _feel_ cold, his body still reacted to it. It was difficult as Gerard was totally zoned out and no help whatsoever.

Eyes drifting shut, Gerard just shrugged again. "Me 'n' janitors, I think."

 _Thank God_ , Frank thought, breathing a sigh of relief. He didn't want to have to explain why Gerard was seemingly too drunk to function.

"How much have you had? To drink, I mean." He asked hesitantly, sitting in a chair opposite.

Leaning forwards, Gerard put his hands on his knees as he gazed at Frank, smiling his adorable small-toothed smile. "As much as I can handle."

Maybe that wasn't a lot and Gerard was a total lightweight, but Frank wasn't so sure.

He sighed. "Wait here." He stood up to fetch a cup of hot coffee from the staff room to try and sober him up, but Gerard grabbed his hand before he could. He blinked, glancing at their hands. "What?"

"Don't leave me." He looked genuinely sad and Frank instantly caved.

"I won't." Plus, he just remembered the power was out and the coffee machine wouldn't work anyway. Now, he had no idea what to do. He couldn't take Gerard home, he couldn't drive a car, and he didn't fancy trudging down the streets with a tipsy Gerard clinging on to his arm.

Smile growing wider, Gerard placed a hand on Frank's chest, the other resting over his belt buckle. He pushed him back until he was up against the wall, and Frank got vivid pictures of his dream flashing through his mind. The roles were reversed this time, and he briefly wondered if things such as premonitions were real, though that wasn't what his mind should have been fixating on.

Like dream-Gerard had been, Frank was shocked, staring wide eyed. "Gee." He swallowed the lump in his throat, moving Gerard's hands to be by his sides instead. He was worried that if Gerard kept going, he wouldn't have stopped him.

"Call me _sir_." He slurred, unsteady on his own feet.

Apparently, drunk Gerard was flirty as fuck. Usually, Frank would have enjoyed it -or rather he was enjoying it- but he didn't want this right now; not while Gerard wasn't actually himself.

"Gerard." Frank said sternly. "You need to rest."

"What?" He giggled, biting his lip. "You can't handle me?"

 _Goddamnit_. Frank wanted nothing more than to kiss him because he'd literally fantasized about it -he wasn't quite sure this was real either. However he was still thinking straight, unlike the idiot who was insensible enough to get wasted at school.

"No," He raised his eyebrows, " _You_ can't handle you."

"I'm fiiine." On cue, he tripped, crashing in to Frank and slamming him against the wall again.

Slightly annoyed that he couldn't give in, Frank groaned and gripped Gerard by the shoulders, leading him to the chair at the teacher's desk. "No you're not."

"I am."

"I'm not going to argue."

"Then just agree w'me and that a-avoided." Gerard grinned, reaching out for Frank, who reluctantly snapped back.

"No." He stated firmly. "You're hammered." Frank brushed the hair away from Gerard's face. His eyes were closed and lips parted as he seemed to be losing consciousness.

This time he didn't answer. Gerard's head rolled back and he slouched, meaning Frank had to grab him before he dropped to the floor. Sighing, he attempted to move him in to a more comfortable position by folding his arms so they were tucked under his chin as he was now lying more on his side -well, as much as he could lie in a chair.

It was nearly nine o'clock in the morning and no one else had showed up for lessons. Clearly it'd been broadcasted somehow that the building was closed, or perhaps the snow had blocked off the roads, or it was blatantly obvious because there was no power.

"You idiot." Frank mumbled, perching on the edge of Gerard's desk to watch over him.

-

When Gerard woke up, he was as expected -dazed, drowsy and a little confused.

For the past five hours, Frank had remained in the art rooms, praying that no one came in, which they didn't, though he'd heard voices a few hours ago. He'd continued revising while taking care of Gerard, who had occasionally snored or muttered in his sleep.

At one point, Gerard had nearly slid off the chair. Fortunately, Frank had managed to catch him and lower him to the floor so there was no chance of falling off again.

Currently, they were both huddled together on the floor in the corner. Gerard's head was resting on Frank's shoulder, one arm around his waist, the other tucked under his chin. Somehow their legs had gotten intertwined, through no fault of Frank's ( _yeah, right_ ), and Gerard's leg was splayed over his, the other bent up awkwardly, which had become a good book rest for Frank because he was still reading through his English notes.

Finally, when Gerard did actually wake up, he awoke in the middle of a coughing fit. He shot up, one hand over his mouth.

Just in time, Frank grabbed the paper bin because a moment later, Gerard was coughing up watered down breakfast with alcohol in to it. Frank combed the hair away from Gerard's face while he gripped the edges of the bin, hands shaking.

"It's alright." Frank found himself saying gently over and over because he had no idea what else to do.

Eventually, Gerard's coughing ceased to retching, which sounded awful and Frank half expected his lungs to come up.

Sweaty and paler than usual, Gerard fell back against the wall, clutching his stomach. After snatching some paper towels, Frank knelt beside him and wiped his mouth for him.

"How-how do you feel?" He asked quietly, searching Gerard's face for an answer, but all he did was look at him with tired, half lidded eyes. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Just-" He took a deep breath, allowing his eyes to close. "Stay with me."

Nodding, Frank wrapped an arm around him as Gerard buried his head in the crook of Frank's neck. He was burning, yet shivering and Frank guessed it wasn't a little or just today that he'd been drinking.

[Published 12 December 2019]


	30. Chapter 30

Obviously, Gerard had been in no fit state to drive home, or even walk for that matter. Frank hadn't known what to do except wait with him until he was well enough. However, when the clock had struck six o'clock and Gerard hadn't stirred, he'd known he had to think of something better.

Frank had supposed he could have taken Gerard to his house to look after him there, but then he'd remembered that Gerard had a boyfriend who was most likely worried. So, tentatively, Frank had temporarily stolen Gerard's phone, scrolled through his contacts, then texted Bert to come pick him up.

Around half an hour later, he'd arrived and Frank had helped him carry Gerard and his belongings in to the car.

The impression he'd gotten from Bert was that he was a sharp character. He wasn't the type of person that Frank had imagined him to be as he didn't think Gerard would date someone like that. Not because of his appearance, but personality. Though he did seem a bit rough with his long shaggy hair and deep set eyes.

Bert hadn't hung around and barely said two words to Frank, which he really hadn't complained about because he -hated to admit it- was a little jealous.

That'd been a few weeks ago now, and Gerard hadn't shown up drunk since, which Frank was thankful for because he wanted him to be okay. So far, the worst he'd watched Gerard fall to was yelling in lesson, though Frank thought that Gerard was more or less aiming the shouting at himself rather than the actual class.

Frank wouldn't say he'd been tip-toeing around, but he'd been a lot more gentle with him, despite if anything was his fault or not. Regardless, they seemed to maintain the comfortable friendship they'd created –that was what Frank wanted to keep more than anything.

For this reason, he hadn't mentioned the bruises, the random marks on his skin, or the fact he'd actually limped in to school once. He cared immensely for Gerard, he did, but he didn't want to pry and ruin whatever they had. Last time he'd brought it up, it seemed to trigger or anger him as it was a sensitive subject.

Though Frank had made a promise that if it ever got too far, he was going to do _something_ about it. The problem was, he didn't exactly know who was harming him. Bert was his main suspect, but he couldn't blame everything on him when he didn't even have proper proof.

-

Currently, Frank was sat in music with Brendon. They'd had to pair up to create a practice piece for their mock exams, and they'd automatically gone with each other. They were both secretly pleased. Although it was a little awkward at first, they managed to get along like they used to.

They were in one of the sound proof rooms, bouncing lyric ideas off one another, while figuring out the rhythm of the song. Frank was mostly spilling out lines because he was good with words, and Brendon was strumming on the acoustic guitar.

Frank couldn't get Gerard singing for his birthday out of his head and he ended up staring off in to the distance, a ghost of a smile on his lips. October seemed like ages ago for it was March now.

"Earth to Princess." Brendon waved a hand in front of his face, successfully startling Frank, who shuffled back a bit.

"What?"

"You're away with the fairies." He chuckled, earning narrowed eyes in return.

"I am not." He huffed, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm just thinking."

Wigging his eyebrows suggestively, Brendon nudged him in the ribs and said in a sing-song voice, "About who?"

A blush bloomed on his cheeks, eyes slightly wider. "What makes you think I'm thinking a-about someone?" He asked curiously because if Brendon could notice, then Gerard probably could too and that would be extremely awkward. _I'm just thinking about making out with my insanely hot art teacher, nothing unusual._

"You have a goofy look on your face and people only ever get that when they're thinking of their crush or someone they love." Brendon replied, and Frank wondered when the hell he became the expert.

"I could be thinking about pizza." He stated seriously, raising his eyebrows.

"Are you?"

Frank chewed his cheek. "Yes."

"Alright." Brendon sighed, fiddling with the tune of the guitar. "Don't tell me who it is." He grinned, striking fear in to Frank's chest. "I'll just guess."

 _No_. Frank's heart plummeted. What if he got it right? What if he told the whole school? _What if Gerard got fired and I got expelled? It'd be my fault_. Trying to keep his tone level, he stared at Brendon, who furrowed his brows. "Please don't guess."

"Why not?"

"I don't want you to." He answered too quickly.

Brendon nodded, shrugging his shoulders. "Okay. . . I was only joking anyway."

Frank hated to snap at him like that, but a huge part of him didn't care because he was a little terrified. They hadn't done anything, though it was still bloody damn scary to think about because so much could go utterly wrong.

-

Thankfully, after school ended, there was no one else in the art department to hear this:

"Fuck me!"

Brows furrowed, Gerard glanced up, extremely confused. "Frank?"

"That hurt!" He emerged from the hall way, clutching his hand between his knees as he screwed his eyes shut. "I trapped my finger in the fucking door." He was rocking back and forth on his heels, feeling as if his finger was about to fall off. It'd gone numb, yet it tingled and hurt like a bitch at the same time.

"Oh." Gerard whispered because he'd not been expecting that from Frank's sudden outburst. "Are you alright?"

Shaking his head, Frank looked at him exasperatedly and answered with as much sarcasm as his pain would allow. "Yes, totally fine. This is what fine looks like."

Even though he was concerned, Frank's attitude made him laugh. "Alright, Smart Ass, if you say so."

Frank frowned. "No," He whined playfully, "you're supposed to help."

"I don't know what you want me to do." Pressing his lips in to a thin line, Gerard shrugged, getting up off the desk and slowly walking towards him. "Want me to kiss it better?"

Despite the fact Frank knew it was a joke, he took the offer. It wasn't where he wanted it to be, but it was still a kiss -given by the one and only Mr Way. "Yes, please." He pouted, holding his hand out.

Regardless that he too knew it was a joke, Gerard did it anyway. Carefully, he took Frank's hand and placed the gentlest kiss to it that he had ever felt. It made them feel like they were in a typical Disney film. "There." He smiled softly. "All better?"

Frank blinked, a bit surprised. "Thank you." Fighting off the urge to grab Gerard's face and kiss him for real, he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I-I appreciate the gesture, but this still hurts."

Gerard ran his fingers through his hair. "If you go to reception, they'll give you some ice. They have a first aid kit."

Ice did sound good, but an asshole called anxiety told him otherwise. "I-I'd rather not."

"Do you want me to go for you instead?"

Finally, someone understood his actual -very real, not what other people thought stupid- fear of social interaction. He smiled gratefully. "Yes, please."

Flashing a grin, Gerard left, then returned ten minutes later. While he was gone, Frank had taken the time to attempt to fix his messy hair, slip off his bag and hoodie and settle on the edge of one of the tables. He rested his chin on his uninjured hand, eyes sparkling as Gerard re-entered the room.

Gerard sat down beside Frank, seemingly as close as possible, and wrapped the ice pack around his finger.

Shamelessly, Frank watched Gerard through a curtain of hair, noticing a few facial ticks, like the way his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth when he concentrated, or how his nose twitched occasionally.

What Frank failed to notice was that Gerard had eventually turned to look right back at him. "Why're you staring at me?"

Blinking hard, he shook his head. "Uhm, no reason? I-I'm tired."

"Oh, well," Gerard bit his lip, an unreadable expression on his face. "It should be fine."

"What should?"

"Your hand?" He chuckled.

"Oh, right, yeah." Frank glanced away, finding the floor very interesting. "Sometimes I'm too clumsy to function."

"You're an elegant giraffe." Gerard snickered. "But shorter."

"Hey," Frank slapped his arm, "Stop holding that over my head. You're only two inches taller. If that."

He tapped him on the nose. "And don't you forget it."

[Published 13 December 2019]


	31. Chapter 31

To his horror, parent's evening had arrived. For the past month he'd been running around trying to fit in times with all his teachers so his parents could see his progress throughout the year for every subject, but because he was late knowing, it'd taken twice as long.

Luckily, he'd managed to keep Gerard last and everyone else before him. Hopefully, his mother would allow him to stay late so they could spend a bit more time together.

When the letters for parent's evening had gone home for the parents to sign to confirm if they were going, Frank had managed to get his mother to come, however, his father was working in New York at that time and couldn't make it. Truth be told, he didn't mind that much. It was enough of a miracle that even one of his parents was attending.

Most of all, he was mainly worried about what Gerard had to say. Although he doubted any of it would be negative, he was still insanely curious and nervous. To some extent, he was about to see how Gerard saw him.

-

"I hate parent's evening." Frank groaned as he flopped on to one of the chairs, and immediately regretted it because he hurt his spine on the plastic. He hissed, rubbing his back.

Glancing down at him as he was standing on the cupboard to hang up a poster that'd fallen off, Gerard furrowed his brows. "Why?"

Frank huffed, "It sucks. I don't see why I have to go." As he'd been almost entirely engulfed in his own little world, he only just realised what Gerard was doing and sat up straight. "Be careful."

"What?" Gerard scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to fall."

"Famous last words." He cocked his head to the side. From this angle, he could stare at Gerard, who was wearing tight ripped jeans, and no one could stop him. "If you do, make sure you don't fall on me." There was actual concern for Gerard's wellbeing hidden behind that joke.

"Wow, thanks." He sighed, pointing the hammer he was holding at him. "I thought you were going to catch me."

"Maybe." Frank bit his lip. "Anyway," he scratched his neck, "Are you going to tell my parents what such a horrible student I am?"

"Oh, of course." Gerard laughed without missing a beat. He nailed in the pin to secure the poster, then turned around, narrowing his eyes at Frank, who stood up just in case he _did_ have to catch him. "You're obviously the noisiest student I've ever met –out of my whole eight months teaching."

"Ha, ha." Frank deadpanned, folding his arms across his chest. "That's totally me."

"It is." He flashed a sly grin, then stepped off the cupboard on to one of the tables and sat down on it, putting the hammer on a nearby chair. "I think you're the worst."

"And you're the worst teacher." Frank chuckled as he hopped on to the desk next to Gerard. After a long pause, he poked him in the thigh to get his attention. "Really, though?"

"Really what?"

This could go one of two ways; really good or really bad. Taking a deep breath, he asked cautiously, "What do you-what do you really think of me?"

Gerard's hair fell over his eyes as he hung his head, kicking his legs back and forth. "Uhm. . ."

 _That's too long of a gap_ , Frank thought gloomily. How he prayed, he wished that he knew what Gerard was thinking.

"I-I-" He racked his brain for the right words. "I like you."

To Frank, that didn't necessarily mean a good thing. _That's what you say when you don't really like someone and don't want to hurt their feelings_.

Putting his hands behind his head, Gerard leaned back so he was lying down on the table. "I think you're funny." He smiled, gazing up thoughtfully at the ceiling.

"Funny, huh?" Frank pushed away the bad thoughts. Keeping his eyes on his hands in his lap, he didn't dare look at him.

"You're. . ." Gerard bit his lip, seriously debating what he was going to say next. "You're cute."

A mad blush crept on to his cheeks, and his heart stuttered. _He thinks I'm cute!_ Though he knew it certainly didn't mean anything. Well, to save himself from disappointment, he told himself it didn't mean anything. "You think I'm cute?"

Nodding, Gerard smiled kindly, "Of course I do."

Trying to hide the beaming smile on his face that he didn't think would ever go away, Frank lowered himself so he was lying next to Gerard, his head on his chest with one hand sneakily draped over his stomach. He hoped he didn't move and they could lie there until parent's evening began.

Mindlessly, Frank fiddled with one of the buttons on Gerard's waistcoat, while Gerard ran his fingers through Frank's hair.

-

So far, it hadn't been a total disaster, although his mother had been late and they'd had to skip their first meeting with the maths teacher, which Frank was grateful for because he always did terribly in maths. Plus, he could already imagine what they were all going to say. Something along the lines of: "Frank's a great student, but he doesn't work well with others."

While that was true, it didn't mean it was a bad thing. Independence was good, right?

If it was, no one seemed to think so. It wasn't his fault he had a crippling fear of other people and absolutely despised group work.

Anyway, none of that really mattered to Frank because he was just waiting the night out until he got to see Gerard. He was excited and terrified. Also, this was the first time his mother was going to meet Gerard –the same person he'd been blatantly gushing about for the past few months.

The place was nearly empty now as parent's evening was almost over and no one picked late time slots –apart from Frank, apparently. They entered 169a, finding Gerard actually sat _at_ his desk and not on it. He gestured for them to sit opposite him, though Frank stayed standing behind her, nibbling anxiously at his nails.

"Hello, Mrs Iero." Gerard greeted, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." His mother smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes and he guessed she was tired. "So, Mr Way," She said, resting her handbag on her lap as she crossed her legs, "How is Frank doing in class?"

Gerard quickly glanced at Frank, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "He's wonderful." Clearing his throat, he looked down at his hands, then took a deep breath before looking back up. "The work Frank produces is exceptional. Really, this genius has talent."

"Oh, that's so great." She turned to Frank. "Why didn't you tell me you were doing this well?"

Frank shrugged, flicking his gaze to Gerard instead as if he would answer for him. He was already beaming from the praise he was giving him.

"Does he have any behavioural problems?" She asked.

"None." Gerard shook his head, but Frank knew exactly what was coming next. "However, getting him to partake in group activities is tricky. Though if he's not comfortable doing it, I won't force him."

"Oh, I know, he's always been shy."

Rolling his eyes, Frank huffed. _Shy_. Like he hadn't heard that his entire life.

"Would you like to see some of Frank's work?" Gerard looked at Frank. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," He coughed, "That's fine."

The next ten minutes should have been marked as ' _let's embarrass Frank'_. Even though Gerard was more or less complimenting him, explaining what he's done and yet to do, he was still uncomfortable because he hated when people talked about him regardless of what they were saying. Plus, he was right there, which made it worse.

When they had to leave, Frank was relieved albeit reluctant to go. He was on the edge of debating whether or not to ask if he could hang out for a bit longer, but he didn't know how to phrase that or what he and Gerard would actually do. Besides, it was seven o'clock.

Just as his mother bid goodbye and left, Frank quickly rushed back in and tackled Gerard in a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist as he whispered "thank you" in his ear, then dashed off before Gerard could reply.

[Published 16 December 2019]


	32. Chapter 32

Before the real exams started, Frank had to finish photography work, which was two photoshoots and then analysis. To do this he'd decided to go to the woods as it was pretty obvious because nature was his theme and he wanted pictures of the lake and rivers.

It was a huge vast forest that he was going to, meaning it was kind of extremely creepy to venture in to by yourself. There'd even been a dead body found in the lake once, and they claimed it was an accident, but Frank wasn't going to take any stupid chances.

That's why at ten o'clock on a Saturday morning, Frank was stood in front of Gerard's front door, weighing the pros and cons of actually knocking. Now, Gerard hadn't given him his address and he'd never been to his house, though last year Gerard had said: "I live right opposite the bus stop next to the park."

Maybe it was a bit weird.

Either way, Frank had spent the past half an hour figuring out where the bus stop was on which street and had walked up to the house right opposite it. Luckily, he didn't have to worry about which side of the street it'd be on because on the right side of the road was the park with the lake.

Taking a deep breath, Frank raised his hand and knocked loudly on the door, hoping he had the correct house. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

There was no answer for a few minutes as Gerard could even be asleep, and he considered leaving to accept the risk of being murdered – _it was a stupid idea, anyway_ -, but as he'd gotten to the garden gate, the lock clicked and the door opened.

"Frank?" Gerard had the most bewildered expression on his face, and no one could blame him.

"Hi." He said awkwardly, shuffling over, suddenly feeling embarrassed. A lot could go wrong.

"What are you doing here?" Gerard lowered his voice, and stepped out, closing the door quietly behind him.

"I-" It was then that Frank noticed Gerard was only wearing a loose tank top and shorts that were cut off too high to be men's clothes –or perhaps he'd done it himself. Shaking his head, he darted his gaze elsewhere. "I was wondering if you'd help me with my photography?"

"You could have asked me yesterday at school." He raised his eyebrows. The question of how Frank had gotten his address in the first place completely slipped his mind.

"No, I mean, like," He sighed, "I have to take pictures, a-and the woods is creepy. . . Will you come with me?"

Furrowing his brows, Gerard wrapped his arms around his waist in the chilly spring air. He glanced around. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, but I need the company, and Brendon is visiting his grandparent's in East Brunswick." He chewed his cheek. "Plus, you're pale as fuck."

"So are you."

"Good point." Frank clapped his hands together, a small smile on his face. "We both need vitamin D, so come with me." He paused, giving his best puppy eyes. "Please?"

Gerard bit his lip, scratching his fingers through his hair. "Uhm," he hesitated, biting his lip, "Give me a minute to get ready, yeah?"

"Okay." Frank tried to keep the huge grin off his face. They were going somewhere together, and it wasn't on school grounds –though nothing could be more special than Christmas Eve had been. At least in the woods they didn't have the chance of being seen.

Fifteen minutes later, Gerard appeared at the door again, wearing skinny jeans, a black shirt and a long coat that whipped around his ankles and a collar that only averted attention to his sharpened his jawline. Frank hopped down from where he'd been sitting on the wall, admittedly checking him out.

"What?" Gerard narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, nothing." He waved a hand dismissively. "Let's go."

-

Of course, they'd ventured in to the dark part of the forest where it felt like literally everything was watching and reaching out to drag them to hell. As a bonus, the sun wasn't even reaching the ground through the trees, so it was pretty gloomy. At least Frank wasn't whining like a baby because he was scared. Instead, he had a firm grip on Gerard's arm because he was being cautious. Though Gerard didn't mind the slightest.

"I thought you were supposed to be taking pictures?"

"I am." Frank held up the camera that was hanging around his neck. "Just not yet." Half the reason was that he didn't particularly want to let go of Gerard.

"Well," He shrugged, glancing at him smugly from the corner of his eye, "It's okay to admit you're scared."

"I am not."

"Are, too."

"Shut up." He scowled playfully, shoving his shoulder.

Gerard smirked, "Make me."

 _Maybe I will_ , Frank thought, but kept his mouth shut. That comment made his heart pound and his stomach do flips. Gerard had given him an order, and he _so_ wanted to follow it.

Frank turned to Gerard, who was focused on staring on straight ahead as they walked. He knew Frank was watching and licked his lips.

 _Surely_ , Frank thought, _that must be an invitation?_

Apparently, the universe didn't want them to kiss because the moment that Frank was about to go for it, they went past a huge bush and a cluster of twigs whacked him in the face out of nowhere. "Ow." He whimpered, tripping sideways.

"Careful." Gerard put an arm around his waist to catch him, then guided him in to a clearing where there were no trees that could assault them. He brushed Frank's hair behind his ears, then ran his thumb across Frank's cheek, making him hiss in pain. "Must have been brambles."

Frank leaned a little in to his touch.

"You've got a few scratches."

"Are they bad?"

Gerard offered a smile, "You'll live." Gently, he wiped the dirt away from the cuts so they didn't get infected. The whole time, Frank was gazing in to Gerard's hazel eyes, which had flickered to make contact with his more than a couple of times. Eventually though, he looked away because it must have freaked Gerard out with how much he seemed to be staring at him all the time. It wasn't his fault he was so damn attractive.

"Thank you." Frank smiled once Gerard announced his cuts were as clean as they could get.

They continued on, making a point of avoiding all the bushes and keeping to some sort of path. Fortunately, the lake steadily came in to view. It was wider than remembered, and with how dark the water was, it seemed deeper too.

"Hey," Frank tapped Gerard's arm to get his attention, smirking slightly. "Come on. Race ya." No other words, he dashed off down the hill towards the water. He decided to carry his camera instead as it kept strangling him.

"Frank!" Gerard called after him, but he just glanced over his shoulder and grinned.

"I said, _come on_!"

Rolling his eyes, Gerard complied and picked up the pace, chasing him to the bottom.

It was further than it seemed. Not really built for exercise, Frank slowed as he got to the end. He was sure Gerard was going to surpass him, however, Gerard did the exact opposite and tackled him. They stumbled back in to a tree, and Frank was thankful he didn't hit his head.

Pinning him against the bark, Gerard put one hand on his chest and the other on the tree above his head. Panting, he flashed a cocky grin, "I win."

"No," Frank frowned. He could feel his hot breath on his cheeks. "We're not at the water yet. Technically. . ." He paused to actually take in oxygen, resting against the bark. "It's a tie."

Raising his eyebrows, Gerard scoffed, "Tie, my ass. I won because you stopped."

"Hmph." Was all he could manage because he couldn't think of a sarcastic comment. Honestly, he was too busy thinking about the fact Gerard had just pushed him up against a tree and cornered him like prey.

Eventually, Gerard stepped back, gesturing towards the lake, flustered. Shrugging his coat off, folding it over his arm, he pointed out reluctantly, "You have photography to do."

"Right."

-

So far, it hadn't been going well. The wind kept creating waves in the water, messing up the pictures he was trying to take. It would have been better if the waves weren't blurred, but Frank couldn't figure out how to adjust the shutter speed –neither did Gerard as he hadn't used a Sony camera before.

Huffing, he fiddled with the dials on the camera. "I wish the wind would fuck off."

"Tell it to nature."

Frank shot him a deadpan glare.

Side by side, they stood in silence. The wind basically said "screw you" and got stronger, blowing their hair in to their eyes. Frank scanned the area, then smiled when he caught sight of a small jetty. He grabbed Gerard's wrist, leading him over. There were ducks floating contently only a couple of meters away, which Frank proceeded to insist he wanted pictures of.

It must have been raining the night before, because the wood was slippery under their feet.

Slowly edging towards the ducks, Frank switched the camera on. They sensed his presence and swam away a little, so by now, he was standing on the edge.

"Careful." Gerard warned, remaining safely on the grass.

"I am." Frank waved a dismissive hand before refocusing his attention. Clearly, he should have listened because he was too busy focusing on the ducks and didn't even see the edge of the jetty. He put at foot out to step closer, but there was nothing left for him to stand on. "Oh, sh-!"

"Frank!" Gerard ran forwards, reaching out, but it was too late.

In a loud splash, creating high waves that soared up then crashed down on him, Frank disappeared under the water.

Though it was okay, really. Luckily, Frank's feet connected with the ground as he struggled under the water, and shortly he found he was able to breathe again. It only went up to his waist and he felt foolish for panicking so much. The jetty wasn't even that long.

Using his arm as a shield against the sun, he looked up at Gerard, who had the biggest smile, which morphed in to laughter.

"It's not funny." Frank pouted.

Gerard nodded, steadying himself with one of the wooden pillars.

"I could have died!"

"It's not deep?" He chuckled, receiving an unimpressed glare.

"Fuck you." Frank huffed, cupping his hands to throw water at him, which Gerard was not impressed by and proceeded to tease him for a moment longer before taking pity on the sopping wet Frank.

"Here, come on." Holding his hand out, he pulled Frank up on to the jetty. He was absolutely soaked, hair in his eyes and clothes completely drenched.

The wind didn't help and Frank's teeth chattered together in the cold.

"You must be freezing." Gerard draped his coat around Frank's shoulders, then wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping him at his side so he could share his body heat -though he didn't have much himself.

"I'm fine." Frank shook his head. "But I don't think my camera is." Frowning, he held it up.

"Me neither. I think you'll need a new one."

-

"I can't fucking believe this!" Frank yelled, slapping his hands by his sides. "The fucking keys to my fucking house!"

"You have a dirty mouth when you're mad." Gerard commented quietly, receiving a hard glare from Frank that made him shrink back a little.

"I bet they're in the fucking lake!" He seethed, frantically digging in his pockets and then checking again, and again.

Gerard made a move to put his hand over Frank's to comfort him but Frank didn't notice and carried on jumping on the spot like he was on hot rocks. "Try to calm down, please, you can-"

"My parents are out all weekend! I'm gonna be homeless." His eyes widened. "Shit, they don't get back until Tuesday."

"Hey," Gerard grabbed his shoulders, making him stop to look at him. He took heavy breaths, chest rising and falling rapidly. "Listen, okay?"

Frank nodded once.

"You can-you can come to my place, i-if you want."

"Are you sure? Gee, that's all weekend." His heart flipped, anxiety and excitement bubbling in his stomach. It was the best offer he'd heard in ages.

Gerard smiled reassuringly, letting his hands fall from Frank's shoulders to his waist -Frank noticed but he didn't say anything in case he moved. "I have a spare bedroom, it's fine."

Though he didn't know what Bert would say. Anyway, he'd be asleep or too drunk and wouldn't notice. He just hoped Bert wouldn't misbehave or start an argument with him in front of Frank. He'd hate for Frank to witness anything like that, especially if it got violent because he could get hurt, too.

"What about clothes for school? Pyjamas?"

"Uhm," Gerard mumbled. He'd forgotten to count the fact school was in two days. "You can borrow some of my clothes? I'm not having you locked out of your house for three days."

Even though he wanted jump at the idea, he hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "I don't want to be a bother. . . You know, I could call Brendon, or Ryan, or even Dallon -actually no."

Gerard raised his eyebrows, pressing his lips in to a thin line.

"Or I could break in to my own house. I'm small enough, it'll work." He half joked, but considered it.

Gerard laughed. "I'm not sure your parents would want to have to bail you out of jail."

"Probably."

"Just come stay with me. It's totally fine. If not, at least let me give you money for a hotel-"

Frank held up a hand to shut him up. "Alright." He sighed. "Paying for a hotel room for me would be awful because I'd have to pay you back."

"No, you wouldn't."

-

Thankfully, Bert wasn't home when they got to Gerard's, to which they were both relieved. After warming up by the radiator while Gerard fetched him some clothes, Frank used the shower. It was right next to the couple's bedroom and he itched to just peek in to see what it was like, though he refrained.

Assuming Frank would most likely be hungry, Gerard had ordered a pizza for them both to share. Good timing too, because it arrived seconds before Frank stepped out of the shower.

The clothes Gerard had allowed him to borrow where a pair of trackies and a huge jumper that had a stupid little doodle on it -truth be told Gerard had chosen that one because he thought he'd look the most adorable in it. And he did.

When Frank came downstairs, Gerard was sat cross legged on the floor by the fire, reading the thickest book ever.

"Hey." He smiled, peering at him from behind the banister. It felt weird being in Gerard's house, in his clothes. "Am I bothering you?"

"Hello." Gerard grinned, glancing up. He discarded his book on the coffee table. "No, not at all. How're you doing?"

"I'm alright." He shuffled in to the living room, flopping back on to the sofa. "Warmer."

"I put your clothes in the wash for you."

"Thank you."

"No problem. They should be done soon." He hopped up, wandering in to the kitchen as he gestured for Frank to follow. "Oh, I also ordered us pizza. I didn't know what you'd prefer, so I just got plain, is that okay?"

"Yeah it's fine." Frank beamed. Gerard was still the kindest man he'd ever met. "No pineapple?" he teased.

"Definitely not." Gerard scrunched his nose adorably. "It's awful." He paused, opening the fridge to rummage through it. "You're lucky Bert likes it, there's some in here you can add to it." He brought out the pizza box and the pineapple then set it down at the table. "Would you like some coffee?"

Frank bit his lip. "Can I make it? With you doing all this for me, I want to do something for you."

"Uhm, okay."

"No sugar, right?"

"Right."

-

After eating, watching Atypical and talking for hours on end, Gerard fell asleep with his head in Frank's lap and his body curled up next to him. Frank was carding his fingers absentmindedly through his hair, hoping Bert didn't arrive because it'd seem compromising.

Unable to move as he didn't want to disturb Gerard, Frank had traced every single edge of furniture and pattern in the wallpaper until his eyes hurt. He'd given up on searching for something to entertain himself when he spotted a small box underneath the coffee table.

Obviously, he couldn't just nosey through Gerard things, however the objects inside the box looked like pill bottles and he wanted to know what they were.

Chewing his cheek, Frank poked the box with his foot, scraping it towards him. Squinting his eyes, he saw one of them read 'anti-depressants', another 'anti-anxiety medication' and the last 'Xanax'.

There were numerous empty bottles of anti-depressants, the anti-anxiety medication was almost all gone and the Xanax was taped shut, though there wasn't a lot left either. They were all scratched as well.

Including the drinking, Frank was highly concerned. He kicked the box back under the table, then whispered quietly in Gerard's ear because he felt guilty now, "sorry, Gee."

[Published 29 December 2019]


	33. april 9

Staying at Gerard's had been the best thing in the world, and he was disappointed when his parents came home and it had to end. He thought of telling Gerard that they'd decided to stay at work for a few days longer, but he didn't want to over stay his welcome. Plus, he wasn't too fond of this Bert.

If he didn't know Bert was Gerard's boyfriend in the beginning, he never would have guessed. There was this tension between them the whole time, Bert didn't really spend much time with him and didn't seem too kind towards Gerard. Well, he didn't seem monstrous, but he wasn't the nicest person in the world.

When Bert had come home, he and Gerard had already said goodnight to each other and slept in the separate bedrooms. Gerard must have been asleep before Bert arrived home and not been able to tell him because Bert had been extremely confused and a little hostile at the sight of a random stranger walking downstairs in his boyfriend's clothes in the morning.

Gerard had taken Bert aside and explained the whole situation, however it didn't do much good as Bert practically ignored Frank the whole time he was there, yet he didn't fail to make sure Frank knew that Gerard was his by kissing him every five minutes. Well, probably not every five minutes, though that's what it felt like to Frank.

Really, neither of them saw a lot of Bert unless he was drinking or bossing Gerard around. Doing every thing he wanted, Gerard didn't seem to mind the slightest. Frank did. Despite that, he didn't dare bring it up.

For school arrangements, Gerard would drop Frank off in his car a few yards down the street so they could enter the building at different times. Maybe they were over paranoid, but they did it and it went swimmingly anyway.

The fantastic fact was that Frank got spend a huge amount of time with Gerard and he didn't ever get sick of him. He grew even more fond of his eccentricities and quirks, which Gerard seemed to have developed more of because Frank mentally noted a few new things about him each day.

Hopefully, just slightly, _hopefully_ , Gerard was beginning to harbour feelings for him too. Frank wanted nothing more than to have Gerard grab his face and kiss him, telling him that's what he'd wanted to do since they'd met, but that literally only happens in films. Besides, Frank isn't that lucky.

The moment Gerard had dropped Frank off back home, the high he'd been on all weekend had disappeared. He was lonely again. At least he was seeing him in exactly two minutes as he was about to walk through the doors on an early Wednesday morning.

Sadly, due to summer approaching, it wasn't dark outside in the mornings or evenings anymore, to both of their dismay.

"Hey." Frank greeted cheerfully, feeling at peace as soon as he saw Gerard's lovely wild hair and familiar smile.

"Hello." Gerard visibly relaxed when Frank entered. "How're you today?"

"Hmm." He pursed his lips, dumping his bag. "Tired."

To aid his exhaustion, he'd worn a jumper that almost made him fall asleep as it was the most comfortable thing in the world, which was going to come in handy in class when he'd inevitably be bored.

"Me too." Gerard scrunched his nose, clenching his jaw in an attempt to not yawn. "I'm starting to think coming in this early was a bad idea."

"You read my mind." He chuckled, slouching in to a chair near Gerard's. He stretched his legs out, putting his feet over Gerard's, which he didn't seem to mind.

"I can do a lot more than that." He smirked, receiving an odd stare.

 _What. The fuck. Does that mean?_ Frank furrowed his brows, folding his arms across his chest. "Show me." He teased, biting his lip, poking Gerard with his foot.

"Maybe some day." A blush rose to Gerard's cheeks and he got up, wandering over to the book shelf to try and hide it. Though he tapped Frank lightly on the nose before he did.

 _Why does this_ _fucker_ _have to_ _be_ _so_ _cryptic_ _? If he wanted_ _me_ _to kiss him,_ _he'd_ _say, right?_

"Oh," Gerard spoke up as he grabbed a text book off the shelf. "I'm sorry I can't stay tonight after school."

"Aww," he frowned, mood plummeting, "why?"

Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for a numerous amount of various outcomes. "Don't make a big deal out of this. . . But I'm going out for my birthday."

"Why didn't you tell me!" Frank's eyes widened, jumping up, almost scaring Gerard in to thinking he was about to yell at him. "Happy birthday!" He rushed over, trapping Gerard in a tight hug so hard that they stumbled in to the book shelf.

Letting out the cutest giggle, Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank's waist, contently resting his chin on his shoulder. "Thank you."

"I'm buying you something. No arguing." Frank said sternly.

"No, Frankie, you don't have to."

"Tough, I am."

"No-" Gerard began, but was cut off when Frank pulled back and put his finger over Gerard's lips.

"I said no arguing." He raised his eyebrows, earning a deadpan glare. Gerard opened his mouth to speak, though Frank shook his head, sending him a challenging look and Gerard shut his mouth obediently. "I said no."

Realising they were up close and personal, Franck cleared his throat and stepped back. "Where're you going?"

Blinking, Gerard seemed to have lost his thoughts. "Wh-what?"

"For your birthday; where are you going?"

His eyes brightened. "My parents paid for us to travel to New York, so I get to see Mikey and the city."

"That sounds rad." Then he furrowed his brows, "Who's Mikey?"

"My brother." Gerard replied, shuffling back to his desk to complete the time table for when substitute teachers will need to fill in for the lessons while he's not there.

"Oh, right." Frank nodded. "I think you mentioned him a few weeks ago."

"Did I?" Gerard scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, I have the worst memory."

"That makes two of us." He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I forget there's still stuff we don't know about each other sometimes."

"Of course there is." Gerard chuckled. "Would you really want to know every thing about me? It's a lot and it's not pretty."

"Yes." Frank didn't miss a beat, wearing a dead serious expression. Obviously he wanted to know all the little details about him. He cracked a smile. "Why not?"

"Hmph." Gerard huffed, resting his head in his hands. "You'd get bored. I'm really not that interesting."

"You are to me." He blurted without thinking. He just ached to let him know how head over heels he was for him. "I-I mean. . ."

Gerard gave him the most puzzled glances while he fumbled for an answer.

"I mean, you've got to be if you're already doing so much at age twenty."

"Twenty one now." He pointed out, a smug smile on his dainty face.

"Shhh," Frank scowled playfully. "Don't make me come over there and shut you up."

"We wouldn't want that, now, would we?" A smirk tugged at his lips, once again sending Frank's mind in to over drive.

 _What the fuck do all these little_ _comments_ _mean?_ "I think you're very talented and that if I know you can play a bit of guitar, sing, _and_ _don't_ _you dare say_ _you_ _can't_ _because you can,_ dye your hair crazy colours, and are already the kindest fucking man I know, you can't be that boring." He laughed dryly. "I'm most likely the boring one here."

"You think that about me?" Gerard gazed at him sadly, forgetting his work as he got up, suddenly pulling Frank in to another hug. He was astounded. "Thank you. You're. . . You're so sweet."

Sighing happily, Frank buried his head in Gerard's chest, listening to his heartbeat. "You're very welcome, I guess?"

"Also, Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not boring to me at all."

-

New fucking York. The prettiest place when all the lights were lit up and the buildings reached in to the black sky. Staring up at it was a little disorientating, but Gerard adored it. He loved lights and dark nights.

Thankfully, because Gerard was skint, his parents had covered the ride costs, and even Bert was paid for to come along, despite Mikey's protests. However, Bert seemed to get along with his parents more than he did his brother.

So far, he'd had been in one of the happiest moods Gerard had seen him in all year. He was excited for Gerard as he knew he had always wanted to visit New York.

Currently, they were exploring the city together, mostly sticking to streets near Mikey and Ray's apartment so they didn't get lost or stray too far this deep in to the night. Despite the late hour, there were still loads of cars racing past and other various types of pedestrians. Even at night, the city was alive and buzzing.

Obviously, Gerard had spent as much time as he could with Mikey as their hours were limited and he didn't know when he'd be able to ride out to New York again. Plus he didn't think Mikey had the money to go to Jersey either.

It'd been great catching up with Ray too. The apprenticeship was going well, though they weren't exactly raking in the money. Mikey had done as Gerard suggested a while back and had taken a small loan from their parents to keep the bills paid. However the lack of stable working hours and stress seemed to be taking more of a toll on Mikey than anyone would have liked. He appeared exhausted, as did Ray. Regardless the fact New York probably wasn't the best place, they loved living there.

"Are you okay?" Gerard asked, turning to Mikey. Their parents, Ray and Bert were walking ahead of them.

"What?" Mikey blinked, then shrugged, which wasn't very visible as the leather jacket he was wearing made him blend in to the shadows. "Yeah, I'm just getting over a cold."

"Are you sure?"

"Totally, dude, chill out." He smiled, whacking Gerard's arm playfully. He didn't want yet another person badgering him about his health, though he knew they did it because they cared.

They came to a busy crossing, mad car drivers zooming past to only get stopped by traffic lights a few hundred yards down the road. Speeding was pretty pointless in a city.

Just as they got to the edge of the pavement, out of habit, Mikey grabbed Gerard's hand and pulled him back.

Huffing, Gerard sent him a deadpan glare. "Really?"

"Yes."

"I'm fine, Mikes." He sighed, staring down at the black concrete. He could vaguely hear everyone else in the distance.

"Maybe, but you're still my brother and it's my job to look after you."

"I-"

Mikey cut him off with a piercing gaze. "Whether it's necessary or not."

[Published 2 January 2020]


	34. Chapter 34

All day, every day for the past three weeks, Frank had been stressed to the point of achieving false calmness, and had altogether stopped completely caring about his exams. Sort of.

It wasn't like they were going to contribute to future careers, universities and colleges, right? Because final exams aren't _that_ important. Nope. Definitely not.

Either way, Frank was kidding himself in to thinking they weren't really important in an attempt to settle his nerves. It hadn't worked.

What had worked was having Gerard be there to coax him in to concentrating. Honestly, if Gerard wasn't there supervising and helping him, he wouldn't have bothered revising at all.

But because he had no one else to unload his insecurities on, it had to be Gerard.

"I've got loads to do and there's only a couple of days left!" He panicked, practically yanking his hair out as he paced the length of the two art rooms, darting in and out of each one. To be fair, at least he was getting some exercise.

Gerard was stood by the double doors, seemingly as stressed as Frank was, resisting the urge to bite his nails as his hand hovered over his mouth.

"I can help you?" He offered a weak smile, shrugging his shoulders. "I could do an outline of your self-evaluation, and all you'd have to do is put it in to your own words."

"No, no, that's not what I meant." He waved his hands around like a maniac. "You don't have to help me, I'm not asking for it. I'm just. . . I don't know. I appreciate the offer. . ." He rambled, stopping momentarily to glance at Gerard, who had an unreadable expression on.

"You may not be asking, but I am." He cocked his head to the side. "Would you like some help?"

"Uhm," Frank took a deep breath, deciding to pace one more time around 169b before halting in front of Gerard. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"As long as it's no bother to you." He replied quietly, fiddling with the zip on his hoodie. "I mean," he bit his lip, "Don't go out of your way for me, really."

"It's fine." Gerard waved a hand dismissively.

"Are you really, really, super sure?"

"What's with the third degree?" Gerard chuckled, wrinkling his pointy nose. "I'm offering to do a little of your work for you to help you. I thought you'd jump at the idea."

"Well. . ." He shrugged, staring at the doors behind Gerard. "I guess I could do with some help for my evaluation."

"Great." He straightened up, adjusting his tie and Frank only just realised how close they were standing. "I'll send you an email when it's done."

-

Later that day, it occurred to him that he'd been caught up in his own little world that he hadn't even acknowledged the question that had been swimming around his brain in the shadows for the past few days.

"Oh my God." He muttered quietly, only just catching Gerard's attention as he glanced up.

"Everything okay?" He furrowed his brows.

"I forgot to ask." He internally face palmed. "How was New York?"

Immedietly, Gerard perked up, the sparkle in his eyes that had begun to fade returned. "Wonderful." He beamed, resting his chin on his hand.

Frank got up and moved his chair closer to Gerard's, leaning forwards a little so he could listen -and admire. He raised his eyebrows, urging him on.

Taking a deep breath, he began, "We all went to Central Park by My request, which Mikey objected to because he isn't really a. . . Nature-y type person. Anyway, he got what he wanted too, which was to see Times Square. It's so busy in New York, you would not believe. The lights are, like, the brightest things ever. Way brighter than Jersey. I swear, I'd've gone blind if I'd looked at them any longer-" He suddenly stopped, a blush creeping up his neck and he shifted. "Am I talking too much? Sorry." Gerard caved in on himself and bit his lip, peering sheepishly through his hair at Frank, who only smiled.

"No, it's totally fine." He shook his head, slouching back in his seat. "It sounds like you had fun." That was more than he could say for himself. Having substitute teachers last Thursday and Friday had sucked. He'd had no one to talk to and had barely said ten words in four days.

"How were your two days here without me?" He teased. "I bet it was torture."

"It was." Frank agreed, letting out a huge sigh, then admitted hesitantly, "It was proper boring when you weren't around."

Frowning, Gerard reached over and squeezed Frank's hand briefly reassuringly. "I'm sure it wasn't too bad?"

"The substitute teachers didn't make the class work the least bit exciting like you do."

"Who did you have?"

"Mrs Stacey." Folding his arms over his chest, he huffed. "She's a drag."

"Let's hope she can't hear you."

"Let's."

-

Thankfully because exams were so close, Frank's year didn't have to attend school. They were all on study leave, meaning they only went in to school if they wanted to. Now, Frank's year was the biggest year in the whole school, so if felt quite empty whenever Frank got to art because there were only ever two or three other people there.

Fortunately, because of study leave, it gave Frank the chance to have a proper lie in and attend school later, or not at all if he didn't feel like getting out of bed -which was more often than not. _Thank God for pizza delivery services._

However he couldn't relax for much longer because he had exams very soon. Music: 26th April. Maths: 2nd May. English: 8th May. Photography: 9th May. Art: 24th May.

It was a lot for him to handle with all the different information to remember and actually store in his brain. Luckily, he didn't have an exam for Game Development or Religious Studies because you were graded on your work throughout the year instead of at the end.

Everyone had a lot to complete, meaning he didn't see much of Gerard unless they were discussing work. Basically, their days together were spent with Gerard sat on a table, tugging on his hair, chewing on the end of a pencil as he glared at papers. And Frank was mainly hunched over in a corner, scanning pages of notes and mentally screaming for it to be over.

 **This is short and** **mainly** **a filler, I guess. I** **didn't** **think** **you'd** **want** **to** **hear** **about** **Frank's** **exams. And anyway** **I** **have better things planned in later** **chapters** **.**  
[Published 6 January 2020]


	35. losing my religion

"Good moaning." Gerard said in a strangely calm voice as Frank shuffled in, not even glancing up from his work.

Blinking hard, Frank almost choked on thin air. "What?" He scoured Gerard's face for some sort of explanation for this weird comment. Maybe he heard wrong?

"I meant good morning." He pressed his lips in to a thin line with a casual shrug of his shoulders, brushing his perfectly knotted hair away from his face, tucking little curls behind his ears. Finally, he looked up. Their eyes met and Gerard smirked, "No I didn't."

Raising his eyebrows, Frank chuckled as he fought off the blush rising to his cheeks. "Someone's in a good mood."

"Is that what this feeling is?" He replied sarcastically. Luckily for him, no one else was there apart from Frank, who had only innocently strolled in to the art department to find Gerard the Sassmeister on the other side, apparently.

"Well," Frank took a deep breath as he dumped his coat and bags. "Good moaning to you too, I guess." He furrowed his brows, desperate to know what cogs were ruling Gerard's brain at that very moment.

"How're you today?" Gerard asked, resting his elbows on the desk, leaning forwards.

"I'm alright." He muttered automatically, going to grab his folder off the shelf.

"I haven't seen you an awful lot lately; you've been off." He paused, chewing his cheek. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I just didn't feel like coming in. I wanted to catch up on sleep after getting up so early this past year."

"Oh," Gerard offered a small smile. "I-I was worried something was wrong."

"Nope." He popped the 'p'. "All is well in Ieroville." Frank frowned as he rummaged under a pile of other people's folders because his wasn't there. While he did, he thought aloud, mostly to himself, "They should make that a place. There'd be no mornings and cake for dinner."

"Sounds great. I'd definitely visit Ieroville."

Giving up and turning around, he questioned, "Do you know where my folder is?"

Switching his gaze to the confused Frank, he suddenly realised, "I'm sorry. I must have left it in the staff room. I was marking it. Sorry."

"It's fine; don't worry."

"I'll go get it, if you like?" He suggested, making for the door.

Instanty following after, Frank grinned, "I'll come with you."

It was late in the afternoon, so fortunately there was hardly anyone around -only the first through fifth years had to attend school. Most of the teachers were in classes, so Frank prayed none of them would be in the staff room.

However, it didn't work because there were two other teachers already in there. Before Frank had a chance to walk in, Gerard was putting a hand on his chest to keep him back while he fetched his folder. No students allowed.

"Sorry about that." Gerard reappeared, passing Frank his folder and Frank deliberately made sure their hands touched.

"Tell me in advance next time you wanna violate my personal space bubble." He raised an eyebrow, casting a sideways glance at Gerard as they returned to 169a.

"I'll do what I like." He nudged Frank playfully, and Frank could have sworn he saw him wink. Weird.

With all the fucking mixed signals Gerard was sending his way, he didn't know what to do. Was he drunk again? Was that the source of his strange behaviour?

Clearing his throat, Frank debated whether or not to simply ask, but anxiety wouldn't let him. Neither would the possibility that Gerard's flirtatious ((?) Frank had never been flirted with before) mood would end.

"How was your day?" Frank sat down on the edge of the table nearest to him. Due to his lie-ins he hadn't really been in school for the mornings, which was usually when they would chat.

"Oh, you know," he waved a hand, "Tedious as hell. Not one student was quiet during lessons. I was this close to smashing my head in to the wall." He held up his forefinger and middle finger, dangerously close together.

"That's a bit morbid. I'm glad you didn't." Frank grinned, "Think of the mess I'd have to clean up."

"Wouldn't you leave my blood all over the floor for the janitors? Give them a good scare?"

"Not my style." He narrowed his eyes, feeling one single surge of confidence as he toyed with the idea of what to say next. "I'd lick your blood up with my tongue."

A slight blush bloomed on Gerard's cheeks. He acted like he wasn't surprised, folding his arms over his chest. "Would you now?"

"You know me." Gripping the edges of the table in case he toppled over, he smirked, "I'm the local vampire."

"I thought I was?"

"You could be. . . Maybe I bit you." He felt both hot and cold and unzipped his hoodie. The wind had been a bitch outside, but it was nothing compared to the bizarre whirlwind of comebacks and snarky remarks that was storming in here.

Gerard bit his lip, unconsciously taking a step towards him. "How would you know if I'd let you bite me?"

Frank smiled slyly. "You would. Trust me."

"Should I?"

"What?"

"Trust you?"

"Yes. I mean, wouldn't you like to be an immortal, none existent creature?"

Gerard sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I'm not so sure." Shifting just that little bit closer, he gazed down at Frank, who audibly swallowed the lump in his throat. "Biting sounds like it'd hurt."

"I'd be gentle." Frank stood up straight, meaning their faces were inches from each other. He ground his teeth together, realising how near they were. Was this it? Could it be the time, at last, that he would build up the courage to just kiss him? Clearly the atmosphere was practically laced with visible tension.

Frank could feel Gerard's breath on his cheeks. And if Frank hadn't been holding his breath, Gerard probably would have felt his too.

Though just as Frank started to dare to leaned in, the doors to the art rooms creaked open and they immediately jumped away from one another. Obviously, the entire fucking universe was against them.

"Mr Way." Mr Wright began as he paced in, giving them both a questioning look. "I have the timetables for you to hand out to your classes."

"Uhm," Gerard raked his fingers through his hair, seemingly frazzled. "What?"

"The timetables." He repeated, furrowing his brows. "For the exams." Mr Wright glanced over at Frank, who gave a pathetic wave. "What were you two doing in here?"

Gerard and Frank locked eyes, taking deep breaths as their hearts leaped in to their throats, pounding.

"Uhm." Gerard forced a smile, scrambling for answers, but his brain was busy panicking.

"I needed help with my assignment." Frank cut in, a little too loudly. "Uh, assignments, actually. I've got two to do. That's why I needed help. . ."

Nothing had happened, but they both felt it now. It was as if they had.

"I see." Mr Wright nodded, unsure. "I'll leave you two to it, then. Good luck in the exams, Mr Iero."

That said, he left promptly, having other places to be.

Neither of them wanted to initiate any moves towards their previous intent, yet neither of them could think of a way to break the tension either. It was great.

"I-uhm-" Gerard let out a short breath, shaking his head to snap out of it. He couldn't quite manage words and handed over one of the timetables to Frank instead.

"Shit." Frank huffed, slouching in to a chair.

By a miracle, he discovered his voice. Albeit it was wavering. "What is it?"

"The exams are so much sooner than I expected. . . Yeah, they gave us study leave weeks in advance, but this sucks."

"Anything I can help with?"

"My music exam is so soon." He ran a hand down his face, trying to fully wake himself up. "God, I'm gonna fail."

Gradually, the tension slipped away like it had been a shared dream.

"No, you're not." Gerard sat beside him. "If you do I'll be shocked."

"Really?" Frank squinted at him. "Why?"

"Why? Because you're brilliant at guitar."

Inevitably, Frank blushed. "No I'm not." He hid his smile behind his hair.

"Yes, you are. I mean it. I wouldn't say otherwise."

"Hmph."

A stretched out silence filled with shy glances and soft smiles.

"I'd like to hear you play." Gerard grinned, spiking fear in to him. "I haven't heard you play in ages."

"I don't know. . ." He took his lip ring between his teeth. "You know I don't like playing in front of people. Doing it for the examiners is gonna be hard enough."

"Why don't you use me as a practice?" Gerard suggested, tapping him lightly on the nose.

Frank cracked a grin, batting Gerard's hand away. "Maybe."

"Come on." It was hard to say no to. "It'll make things easier, I promise."

"You promise, huh?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "So if it doesn't work and I fail, I can pin the blame on you?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it." He scowled playfully.

"It's part of our newfound deal." Frank held his hand out for Gerard to shake, but the latter didn't seem impressed.

"Yeah?"

"Promise?"

"Whatever you say, Dracula."

-

Thankfully, there was only one other person in any of the sound proof booths. It was someone who Frank recognised as Lindsey Ballato; she was playing the piano splendidly.

Hopefully, they wouldn't be interrupted by her. Anyway, it was unlikely. Mostly, Frank was glad his guitar was in the same corner he'd left it.

"I like it in here." Gerard commented quietly, eyes drifting towards the acoustic.

"Me too." Frank agreed, flashing a smile as he nodded to one of the booths. "In there should be fine."

"Hey, same one as last time."

"Oh," he remembered, "Yeah." Last they were here, Frank had accidentally slapped Gerard's ass. Though he didn't think he could get away with doing it accidentally-on-purpose this time.

Swinging his legs back and forth, Gerard sat on the table, facing Frank, a gleam in his eye. "What're you going to play? I'm excited."

"Uhm." Hadn't given it much thought. "I'm supposed to sing a song I've written myself. . ." He trailed off because he didn't want Gerard to hear what he'd written. Sure, it meant nothing to the examiners, but singing it to Gerard might mean something. "But I don't want to-"

"Aww," Gerard pouted. "Why not?"

"It-it's embarrassing."

"I understand." He nodded. "I'm really not going to force you to do something you don't want to do."

"Thank you."

"Though, as your number one fan, I'm possibly going to have to insist next time. Possibly, if that's okay with you."

This man was unbelievable. "You're my number one fan?" He giggled adorably, overflowing with giddiness. "Never had one of those before. Thank you."

"Of course."

"Thank you, again." Frank's blush only deepened and he suddenly lost the ability to function properly as he transformed in to the clumsiest person in the universe and dropped his guitar, the case and his courage. "Ah, shit." He bent down to gather them up, but Gerard was already there collecting them for him.

"There you go." Gerard placed the case on the table and gave him the guitar.

"Thank you." He beamed, highly appreciative. "Again."

"You're welcome." _Darling_.

-

Instead of singing his own song, he chose to sing Losing My Religion. Months ago, Frank had fallen in love with it and just had to learn the words and chords until his fingers were scraped to the bone.

Also, what made the song a fantastic choice was the fact Gerard knew the words and had decided to sing along to make Frank feel more comfortable, which it did.

At one point, Frank quit singing just to listen to Gerard. Luckily, as he'd had his eyes shut, Gerard hadn't noticed. That was until the lyrics ran out and the chords faded.

"That was beautiful." Frank rested his chin on his arms, arms on the guitar on his lap. Gazing up at Gerard, he smiled.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Gerard frowned a little. "You were supposed to be singing."

"I don't care."

"I love your voice, you know?" He grinned. "You have a unique way of singing. Raw and full of emotion."

"You do, too."

"Not the way you do." He shook his head. "Honestly, I like your version more than the original. . . And I ruined it by signing." He laughed nervously, chewing his lip.

"You did not ruin it." Frank whined, narrowing his eyes.

Gerard kept quiet.

"I'm telling the truth." He stated seriously, hoping he could coax Gerard in to believing in himself a little more.

"You think so?"

"I know so. Any one would agree with me."

"Perhaps we should be a duo."

"One day, Mr Way."

[Published 7 January 2020]


	36. Chapter 36

"Oh, come on, Gee." Frank whined, tugging on Gerard's sleeve, receiving an unimpressed expression.

"No." He grinned smugly, glancing at Frank as he leaned back against the wall.

"Why not?"

"They'll damage your lungs." He shrugged, taking a drag, bleeding it dry mainly just to piss him off.

"And yours, genius. Being older doesn't make you invincible."

"I am compared to you."

"Fuck off." He huffed, shoving his shoulder in hopes of knocking the cigarette from between his fingers. For the past fifteen minutes, Frank had been trying to persuade Gerard to give him a cigarette, but Gerard was being a responsible adult and not letting him.

"Alright," Frank mumbled. "Don't give me one. I'll just have to tell Mr Knight you're smoking on school grounds."

Gerard gasped, looking at him in alarm. "You wouldn't?"

"Try me." He raised his eyebrows. "What'll it be?"

Pressing his lips in to a thin line, he glowered at him and reluctantly passed over the cigarette he was holding. "You can finish this one. But that's it, okay? I don't want you to infect your lungs, it's a disgusting habit."

Frank chuckled, almost letting it slip. "Then why do you smoke?"

"I was young and stupid when I started." He frowned, wrapping his arms around his torso. "I'm actually trying to quit."

Frank cocked his head to the side.

"Don't look at me like that. I said I'm _trying_ to quit. I didn't say I was succeeding."

Frank held his hand out. "Give me the packet."

"What?"

"You're not going to quit while carrying them around, so give it to me. It'll make it easier."

Chewing his lip anxiously, Gerard narrowed his eyes. "Do I have to?"

Frank raised his eyebrows, saying in the most demanding voice he could muster, "Give it to me."

After some intense eye contact, and a staring contest, which Frank eventually won, Gerard heaved a huge sigh and reached in to his back pocket, then slapped the cigarettes in to Frank's palm -a little harder than he meant to.

"I hate you." Gerard pouted, earning a giddy grin from Frank.

"No you don't. You love me."

A blush rose to Gerard's cheeks and he quickly turned away, folding his arms across his chest like a stroppy toddler. "Anyway," he breathed, "You're doing it wrong."

"Doing what wrong?"

"Smoking." Gerard reached over and tried to snatch the cigarette back, but Frank was faster. "Let me show you, at least?"

"No." Frank flicked it to the ground, snuffing it out with his shoe.

Defeated, Gerard just stared.

"Neither of us will smoke."

"How am I supposed to spend my time now? I came out here to relax, and that's gone." He gestured loosely to the killed cigarette. In a smaller voice, he murmured, "Thank you, though."

"You're welcome." Frank smiled. "I just don't want you to get ill, or something." His father used to smoke, and all it ever did was give him a horrendous cough.

Hesitantly, Gerard returned the smile.

"Plus, now you can spend that time with me." He grabbed Gerard's hand, dragging him back in to the building. "I need your help. I can't draw for shit."

-

Frank had finished his exams now. Or rather, he'd already had two and had decided that was enough for the remainder of his academic life. In reality, he had another two left, and he really couldn't be bothered doing them.

It wasn't even late. However, it was late enough for both of their brains to stop functioning properly. Gerard was dazed, staring at the computer screen but not actually seeing it. Frank supposed he could have been sleeping with his eyes open, which would have been creepy as hell, because he hadn't moved in a while.

Frank was drifting to dream land, chin on his hand as he tried not to slam his head against the table in frustration. Revising was the most tedious task in the world.

Out of nowhere, Gerard announced, "I'm going to dye my hair. . . What do you think?"

Frank blinked, shaking his head to force his vision to clear. "What? Uhm," he laughed shortly, "I think you should dye more than the roots this time." Either which, he thought he looked gorgeous.

"Ha ha." Gerard rolled his eyes. "The teal roots was a mistake."

"What happened?"

"I forgot to bleach the rest of my hair?" He scratched the back of his neck. "I'm not sure, I don't fully remember." In reality, he'd been high and thought it would be hilarious at the time.

"Oh, well it suits you." He said, innocently admiring him. Hazel eyes, teal roots, pixie nose, _everything_. He wondered if Gerard would ever view him that way. "What colour do you want to do it?"

Biting his lip, Gerard replied, "Red?"

" _Red_?"

"Is it too obnoxious?"

"That's a vibrant colour, are you sure?" Frank tried to imagine it.

"No, that's why I'm asking you." He shrugged.

"Right." He squinted at Gerard, who blushed and fidgeted in his seat, seemingly interested in the pencil lying on the desk.

"Do you think it will suit me?" He asked timidly. "I mean, I won't look bad, will I?"

Frank shook his head because he found it impossible for anything to ruin Gerard's appearance. He could dress up in a clown costume and he'd still probably think he looked cute. "You've pulled off teal roots all year. You can pull off red hair. Definitely."

"Really? You think so?" He beamed, sitting up straighter in the chair.

Frank nodded, then an excited expression crossed his face. "Can I-can I help?"

Gerard furrowed his brows. "How? What do you mean?"

"Can I dye you hair for you?"

"You want to? Is that a good idea?"

Bouncing to his feet, Frank wandered closer to him, clasping his hands behind his back. "Yeah, it'll be fun." He poked Gerard's cheek. "Come on, I know you want to let me."

"Hm." He ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to tuck it behind his ears.

"Please?"

Unamsued by Frank continuously poking -and admittedly tickling- him Gerard gently batted his hand away and let out a deep breath. "Alright. .  
. Gives me the chance to blame you if it looks hideous."

"You could never look hideous." Frank blurted out automatically, eyes widening a little at his words, but he played it off cool. They were good friends, a comment like that shouldn't be weird by now, right?

Clearing his throat, Gerard glanced away. "Do you want to go to my house to do it? Bert's out with friends, I think."

"O-okay." He was a little taken aback. "Now?"

"Why not?" He checked the clock on the wall; 4:54. "Is that fine?"

"Yeah, yeah." Frank grabbed his bags, slipping his coat on. He wasn't going to waste another second at school if it meant he could go home with Gerard.

-

Of course, this was a horrible idea. Dyeing Gerard's hair was a terribly tricky task. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep. At least Bert wasn't there to watch what the hell they were doing, and what mess they were making that Gerard knew he'd have to clean up before he returned. They shouldn't be interrupted.

Gerard was leaning over the sink, hands gripping either side of it as Frank was stood on the toilet seat, stretching over him.

"Hold still." Frank huffed, putting a hand on the back of Gerard's neck to steady himself. "Or your shirt will be bright red, too."

"I am." Gerard scowled. If Frank pushed his head down any further, he'd drop to his knees and smack his head on the sink. He really didn't fancy that happening. "If you weren't so short, this might work." He retorted, glancing at Frank from the corner of his eye.

"Hey!" Frank whined. "Shut up, or I'll kick your ass."

"Oh, yeah? Come at me, shorty."

Frank's eyebrows nearly shot off his head. "I swear to God." He gathered the strength to not to actually, quite literally, kick Gerard in the ass. He was in the perfect position for it.

After a moments silence, Gerard muttered, "I'm sorry, I'm just stressed."

"No, it's okay." Frank chuckled. "I live for banter." He dyed the hair at the back of Gerard's head, making sure he didn't colour his skin in the process.

"Thank you for doing this."

"You can thank me if it looks good. I've never dyed hair." He took his lip ring between his teeth.

"I should have gone to a hairdressers. This was a ridiculous idea."

"I'd like to think of it as fun and experimental."

When Gerard's hair was practically smothered in the dye, they waited the instructed amount of time before washing it out.

Being the queen he secretly was underneath all the awkwardness and fear of judgement, Gerard had insisted he dry his hair himself, get changed in to something more appropriate, then show Frank the final result.

Frank didn't know what "I want to wear something more fitting" meant, though he wouldn't be lying if said he wasn't very curious. _Skinny jeans?_ , he supposed.

Currently, he was perched on the edge of Gerard's bed, scanning around the room because he'd never been in their bedroom before. Unsurprisingly, it was messy and smelled like cigarette smoke. There was an ash tray on the bedside table, a couple of empty white lighters on the window sill and clothes strewn all over the place. The curtains were drawn so it was dark.

"Are-are you ready?" Gerard's voice sounded nervously from behind the door -he'd gotten changed in the bathroom after snatching up the desired outfit.

"Uhm, yes?" Frank answered unsurely because he didn't know what to expect. Gerard didn't seem too sure either.

The door creaked open and Gerard stepped inside. Frank's mouth went dry. He was wearing the tight ripped jeans that were too ripped to be worn anywhere to other than some sort of club, a grey t-shirt with the sides cut to the seams, and clunky zipped boots than went up to his knees.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Frank totally forgot about the fact he was supposed to be focused on his hair instead. He looked like an entirely different person. "Uhm."

One hand on his hip, Gerard used the other to mess up his hair perfectly. "How is it?"

The red was simply fucking stunning. It worked really well and gave Gerard a new, incredibly sassy vibe -very different from the shy teacher vibe he'd had previously.

Frank grinned. "Fabulous."

"Really?"

"You are. . ." _Hot_ , he thought, admit it. Truth be told, _a slightly tiny little bit slutty_ , too.

"I pray there's a positive end to that sentence." He smiled hopefully.

"Uh, yes, yes there is." Frank smirked slightly. "You are unbelievable, Mr Way."

[Published 19 January 2020]


	37. Chapter 37

At last, Frank was free (well, almost). No more rude teachers, no more getting up ridiculously early, no more tedious lessons, no more school. However, what came next was extremely terrifying to think about.

All year, he'd been pestered about applying for college, university or an apprenticeship. Each time the subject came up, he grabbed an imaginary gun and shot it out of the way because he really didn't want to think about it. Going away for college or whatever meant loads of new anxiety. New people, classes, teachers, surroundings. Basically, it was a big change and he couldn't handle it.

For now, he was going to leave the subject in the ditch he put it in, and wait until the absolute last minute to dig it up.

He knew Brendon and Ryan had already applied and been accepted in to university. Conveniently, they were going to the same one to study music. Honestly, Frank would have tagged along but he couldn't bring himself to ask.

Anyway, on his (nearly) last day of school, that was pushed far back in his thoughts as he burst in to the art rooms, a huge shit-eating grin on his delighted face.

A little startled, Gerard almost dropped the folder he was holding. "Hello."

"Hey, Mr Way!" Frank could almost rush over and hug him. He was just so thrilled he wasn't going to have the stress of school constantly weighing down on his shoulders anymore. It was refreshing. Fucking wonderful, honestly.

"Why do you call me Mr Way?" Gerard chuckled quietly, raising an eyebrow. "I thought we agreed on Gerard?"

"Ah, well." He sighed, clapping his hands together. "School day ends in fifty minutes so you're Mr Way until then."

"Oh, okay." He shrugged, tucking his hair behind his ears.

Frank couldn't get over the fact it was red. Bright fucking red, portraying perfectly how attractive he was (he would have told him if he hadn't been so scared to actually get his mouth to form the words). Albeit, it was a little odd to see him wearing a waistcoat like that, all Frank could picture were the skinny jeans.

"How did your exams go?"

"Uhm," He shook his head, still grinning -teeth and all. "I don't care. I'm just glad they're over."

Gerard squinted at him, knowing that fluffy haired idiot all too well. "Tell the truth, Frankie."

"Okay." He groaned, running his hands down his face. "I do care, _but_ I'm mostly glad they're fucking over."

"Want to celebrate?"

"How?" He furrowed his brows, searching Gerard's face for clues. Really, he shouldn't have been surprised that he'd had something planned. No matter how small.

"I knew it was your last exam today, so I brought your favourite chocolate."

"Rad! Thank you." He bounced over, rocking back and forth on his heels as Gerard rummaged around in a drawer.

When he looked back up, he narrowed his eyes, keeping the chocolate out of arms reach. "I'm not sure if giving you this is a good idea."

Frank pouted. "Why not?"

"You're already buzzed enough; I don't think giving you a sugar rush as well is very smart. I have to be the responsible one here." He smirked slightly, placing a hand on his hip, enjoying the playful scowl on Frank's pretty face.

"And do you know why I'm on a natural high?" He was almost flying.

"Oh, I have no idea." Gerard said sarcastically. "Pray tell?"

"No. More. School." He took a step closer with each word.

Sucking in a deep breath, Gerard nodded, though his smile faltered. "I'm happy for you."

Of course, Frank noticed. He shrank back a little, putting some space between them. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He smiled, though it seemed sad. "I mean, I-I guess it's goodbye for us, you know?"

That said, Frank's heart plummeted. He'd no longer see Gerard every day, gaze at him during art, or get to talk to him about mindless things and random thoughts that Gerard would always listen intently to, despite where Frank's weird mind led them.

"No, no, I'm sorry to ruin your mood." Gerard bit his lip, setting down the chocolate and folder.

"It's okay." Frank let out a long breath, glancing out the window. "I just. . . Didn't think about that part."

"Please don't be sad." Gerard put his hands on Frank's shoulders, forcing a smile. "It's just me."

 _Just you? Do you know how fantastic you are?_ "Just you?" Frank scoffed. "You're awesome, Gee, and I don't want to go without seeing you every day."

Gerard melted. "Really?"

Nodding once, Frank settled his hands on Gerard's hips. "It was fun being your student."

"It was fun being your teacher."

"Anyway," he tried to cheer up the atmosphere because one important factor had slipped both of their minds: "This isn't the end. We can still hang out. You won't even be my teacher soon. A couple of days and we can be proper friends without having to worry."

"That's true." Gerard smiled, leaning in a little.

"I mean, because I'm leaving school doesn't mean I'm leaving your life."

"I'm glad you aren't." He pulled Frank in for a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist, burying his face in Frank's shoulder. His words came out muffled, "A couple of days and we can do whatever we want."

Alright. Hang on. Frank wasn't entirely sure what "whatever we want" meant, but he hoped it involved kissing. God, he couldn't wait to find out.

"So," Gerard reluctantly pulled back, "For the sake of it, would you like to spend the evening with me here before we can't do it anymore? Like a last art school date?"

Frank blinked. _Date_? He laughed, but didn't mean to laugh out loud. _Does he mean date as in **date**?_ "Sounds fun." His voice cracked.

-

Obviously, Frank had spent right up until five o'clock what 'art school date' meant. It wasn't his fault that his brain was overthinking, and his mind was overly curious. Seriously, he wished he could stop thinking so he could have enjoyed the moment.

Since he only had a few more days until he didn't have to enter the sodden building ever again, and because he'd already had his art exam, Frank didn't have any proper work to do. Instead, they were currently introducing each other to new music.

Gerard had the projector on, and they were watching Motionless in White's 'Another Life' music video. Honestly, Frank didn't think Gerard would be the one to listen to that sort of music, but he was proven wrong by the way Gerard was staring off in to nowhere; simply listening.

Frank's request had been 'Happy Pills' by Weathers. After that, they chose a playlist and let the songs switch by themselves.

Now, Gerard was sat beside Frank, tapping his foot to the beat as he demonstrated how water colours were used –Frank was utterly useless at painting.

"You're not useless." Gerard stated, nudging him in the ribs, and earning an unimpressed glare. "You're not! I've seen worse."

"Yeah." He huffed. "The worse was me at the start of the year."

"You should try not to be so hard on yourself." Saying that received the world's biggest eye roll. "Really, you're wonderful." Gerard murmured, resting his head on his hand.

"No I'm not." Frank wanted to crawl in to a hole because he was sure his face was bright red.

"You are!"

"Fine. I'll believe you this once, but that's it."

"I win." Gerard smirked.

Narrowing his eyes at him, Frank dipped his brush in to the water and flicked it on the end of Gerard's pointy nose.

"You didn't just do that." He raised his eyebrows.

"No." Frank replied with a serious poker face.

"Of course not." In retaliation, Gerard smiled innocently, then swiped a brush in to the paint, drawing a circle on Frank's cheek, to which he sent him daggers. "I didn't do that either."

"You fucker." He scowled playfully. "How dare you?"

"Quite easily." He raised his arm to block Frank's attempt to colour his face blue, and caught sight of his watch. It was late and he needed to be home. Sighing, he frowned slightly and glanced at Frank, giving the most apologetic expression he could. "I have to go."

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, "Why?"

"Uhm, Bert, you know?"

"Yeah. . ." He waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, I understand." Frank nodded, starting to clear the art supplies away. "How did he like your hair?"

"He loved it." Gerard beamed. "A lot."

 _Right_. Frank ground his back teeth together. "Good."

They shuffled around in silence while they cleaned up, and washed their faces. When they'd tidied away, Frank shrugged his coat on (lost in the fluffy hood), then slouched in to a chair, watching as Gerard buttoned up his waistcoat and slipped on his denim jacket.

"I'll see you later, yeah?" Gerard bent down as he slung his satchel over his shoulder, tucked Frank's hair back and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Eyes wide, Frank froze. He could feel Gerard's warm breath tickle his ear.

"I'm sorry." Gerard shook his head. He was so used to doing that with Bert, and it almost felt natural to kiss Frank goodbye. "I-I don't know why I did that." His face was tinted pink.

Frank nearly reached up to tangle his fingers in Gerard's hair and pull him infor a real kiss, but he didn't. Instead, he cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "It's okay."

It was kind of awkward now, though it never lasted long so both of them expected to be fine the next day.

"I, uh, I'll see you tomorrow." Gerard tripped over himself as he exited, then rushed out the door. He needed a smoke, however, Frank had binned his cigarettes."Fuck." He whispered.

Frank did not give a single shit. That was a kiss, a kiss from Mr Way, and he was going to count it.

[Published 20 January 2020]


	38. house of wolves

The sun -also known as Frank's sworn enemy- only ever burned him because he didn't tan, and, as a result, was pale as fuck. That was the main reason he loathed summer. Plus, it was way too hot for any living thing to function. What was he supposed to do when he overheated? Tear his skin off? At least in winter he could bury himself in fluffy blankets.

In classes, it was even worse. He'd be sitting there, boiling in art and too afraid to take his hoodie off, and Gerard would be sat there wearing as little as he could that coincided with the school's dress code. So far, he'd worn tank tops, sunglasses and shorts (once). Frank had the wide variety of different types of jumpers, jackets and long sleeved t-shirts.

Thankfully, God had laughed enough at his suffering, and had blessed them all with a storm. It was pouring with rain, there was the occasional jump-scare from thunder, though there hadn't been any lightning. Everyone had hoped school would have been cancelled. But nope.

With exams gone, the school day (for last year students anyway) now only consisted of career meetings, assemblies and discussions of options. All were completely tedious and nerve-wracking.

Currently, Frank was sat in 169a, gazing out of the window at the rain, and how the fields were beginning to flood. The sky was quite dark too.

"Do you think this'll last until night?" Gerard asked, pulling Frank back to the real world.

"Huh? Yeah, maybe." He turned to face him. "You like storms?"

"Sometimes." Peering out at the blackened clouds, he scrunched his nose.

"Why only sometimes?"

"'Cause, uhm, you know," he shrugged, glancing away, "They scare me."

"Aww." Frank grinned, that's so cute. Gerard sent him a confused look and he shook his head. "What is it about them that you don't like?"

"Loud noises." He tensed a bit, carding his fingers through his hair. "I-I don't really know; they just freak me out a little."

"How about I distract you?" He offered, tapping Gerard's thigh with his shoe as he propped his feet up on Gerard's lap, slouching back in his chair.

"How would you distract me?" Folding his arms over his chest, he was seemingly unfazed by Frank using him as a foot rest.

"Guitar?"

"Really?" A smile spread across his face.

"Yeah," he chewed his lip. "I never played you the song I wrote, so. . . Do you wanna hear it now?"

"Of course."

"Well," swallowing the lump in his throat, he fetched his guitar. He hurried about, hands already shaking slightly. "It's not very good, it's okay if you don't like it. I mean, I'm not the best writer in the world. And-and I'll probably mess up on the strings-" He went to walk back, but was stopped when he came in to contact with Gerard's chest. Smiling weakly, he glanced up, "Hi, there."

"You'll do great." Gerard beamed, taking Frank's free hand and squeezing it for reassurance. "Really, I don't mind if you mess up, I'll still love it."

"Thank you."

-

Although Frank's voice was constantly wavering, he managed to choke out the lyrics. It didn't help that Gerard was watching him, chin resting on his palm. Though he kind of liked being the centre of his attention for a little while, and soon it got easier to sing and to get his fingers to play the correct chords.

Frank was sat on a table, feet on a chair, and Gerard was seated opposite.

"That was. . ." Gerard murmured, gazing at him with such intensity as Frank faded his voice out. "That was fantastic."

"Fantastic? I wouldn't go that far." Frank mumbled, making sure his hair hid his blush.

"I would." Gerard hopped off the other table to sit beside him. Hesitantly, he leaned against Frank, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Thank you." He resisted the urge to wrap an arm around Gerard's waist because it felt too intimate, despite the fact they'd known each other for almost over a year.

Nearly an entire year he'd known this wonderful man, yet he'd never gotten to kiss him, or simply lie next to him in bed. Nothing else, just to lie there and listen to Gerard either breathe, or talk passionately about art and get carried away. It wasn't fair.

By the time either of them felt like moving, it was half six. Frank had pins and needles in his arm from Gerard lying on it, but he wasn't going to complain.

Rubbing his eyes, Gerard spoke up, "We should get going."

"Hmm." Frank hummed, missing the warmth when Gerard shuffled to stand, stretching his muscles.

They both packed up in a comfortable silence. Two days later and it'd be the summer holidays, where they'd see less of each other -Frank wasn't so sure if Gerard would bother to text.

It was pouring outside, like tiny bullets being fired at them. Due to it being summer, neither of them had brought a proper coat.

"Get ready to run." Gerard grinned, grabbing Frank's hand before he rushed off with barely any warning. His voice was hardly audible over the rain.

"What-" But he was already being dragged through the car park. Smiling to himself, he held tighter on to Gerard's hand because he loved how childish he was sometimes and just loved being with him. It was unexplainable.

By the time they got to the car, they were already soaked. Digging for his keys in his pocket, Gerard flashed a smile at him, eyes sparkling under the street lamp. "Don't you think the weather is lovely?"

In reply, Frank giggled, "Oh, totally."

"Come on, sugar, get in the car." Gerard gestured to the passenger's seat, then wandered over to the driver's side.

Does he not just realise what he called me? Frank's heard skipped a beat, smiling impossibly wider.

Breathing loudly from the running, they both flopped in to the seats, practically dripping waterfalls. Gerard slid the key in to the ignition, turned it, but nothing happened.

"Ah, fuck." Gerard sighed, trying again.

Frank furrowed his brows, glancing at him. "What's up?"

"Engine won't start." He huffed, slouching. "I know it's due an MOT, but. . . Thought I could wait a bit longer. . . Apparently not."

"Can't you call a mechanic?"

"Don't have the number of one. And the nearest garage is ages away." Flicking back his damp hair, he frowned. "I don't want to bother anyone, either."

"Gee, fixing cars are their jobs."

"I know. . . But. . . Do you think I could take the bus?"

"Maybe." Frank shrugged.

Bracing themselves for the rain, they climbed out, then ventured around to check the times at the bus stop. Unfortunately, they'd just missed the last one, and the next one travelling in Gerard's direction wasn't for another hour.

"Wonderful." Gerard groaned sarcastically, falling dramatically against the lamppost, gazing up in to the clouds.

"Uhm." Frank tapped his shoulder, standing on his tiptoes, desperate for an answer before he'd even said the question. "There's still one more option."

"What?"

"Come round to my house?" He gave a smile, which Gerard greatly returned.

"Are you sure?"

"You've been before, right? Just stay until the storm dies."

He didn't look too convinced. "I don't want to impose or anything."

"My parents are out of town, it'll be fine."

"Well," Gerard grinned, "If you're offering, I won't refuse."

-

Despite the fact he kind of really wanted to go to Frank's house as he'd enjoyed himself last time (why wouldn't he go now?), Gerard wasn't too happy about abandoning his car in the school car park.

Buzzing. Frank was buzzing. If it wasn't for the rain and fear of being seen or judged, he'd have skipped home, swinging their hands together. Instead, they speed walked in unison, scampering to be free of the storm.

"So," Gerard started, using his jacket as a shield. "What exactly do your parents do? I mean, they seem to be away a lot. . ."

"Oh," Frank waved a hand dismissively. "It's okay. They both work for a big company and they constantly need to be elsewhere to install software or something like that -I'm not really sure myself. I only know it's do with computers and stuff."

"That must suck."

"What?"

"Them being out all the time."

"I'm used to it." He stared down at the puddles. "Really, it's fine. I get to do whatever I want, mostly." He chuckled.

"I guess there are some good things about it, then?" Gerard leaned in to him for a second, their hands knocking together.

"I guess so." He glanced at him in a shop window as they passed a bakery. "What do your parents do?"

"No idea." Gerard took a deep breath. "They're kind of between jobs, but my dad has a lot of savings, so I think they're living off of those at the moment."

Frank nodded.

Squinting up at a neon sign, Gerard jumped a little. "Oh, I recognise this! Your house is just down there, and the cafe with the fabulous coffee is down there, yeah?" He pointed vaguely behind them.

"Yup."

Momentarily forgetting he was with Frank, Gerard bounced over to the curb, quickly checked both ways, then decided the car racing towards him was far enough away.

"Gerard!" Frank squeaked when he dashed out in to the road, splashing up waves.

"What?" Gerard shouted in response, safely across the road. The car had narrowly missed him and flashed their lights for him to shift it.

Frank waited until the coast was clear, rushed over and gripped Gerard's arm. "Jesus! Tell me when you're gonna do that next time."

Taking a deep breath, Gerard peeked up through his fringe, chewing his lip. "I'm sorry. . . I will."

-

The minute they got to Frank's house, there was a huge clap of thunder, causing Gerard to jolt, shuffling further in to the hall as the wind slammed the door shut.

"Hey," Frank tried to smile but his face felt numb from the cold. "You can light a-a fire while I get us some dry clothes, yeah?"

"Thank you." Gerard beamed, struggling to pry his soaked jacket off. Similarly, Frank had to twist his arms in to awkward positions to manage to get his own hoodie off. They were both drenched to the bone.

In order to get warm, they changed in to a couple of Frank's oversized shirts, hoodies and baggy jeans.

Once they were settled, sat on the floor beside the fire, Frank nudged Gerard in the ribs, almost making the drink he was holding slosh over the rim.

"Hey, my coffee." Gerard whined, shooting Frank a deadpan glare.

"I needed your attention."

"You always have my attention."

He had to restrain himself from grinning like an idiot. "Anyway," he shook his head, "I-I remembered I have something for you."

"Really?" Gerard furrowed his brows.

"Yeah." He felt his cheeks burn a little already. "For your birthday."

"Oh no, Frankie, I said you didn't have to."

"No, no, I wanted to." He placed his mug on the table, then disappeared, leaving Gerard confused. When he reappeared, he was just a head poking around the door. "Close your eyes."

"Really."

"Yup." He popped the 'p'. "Or else I won't give it to you."

"Alright. But if you, like, pull a prank on me, I'll have to pound you."

He could literally hear Frank roll his eyes. "Not a prank." He reassured. "Sorry it's late, but it was too big to bring in to school."

Gerard screwed his eyes shut. "Too big? You didn't buy something expensive, did you?"

"Well. . ." Chewing his lip, he wandered back over to Gerard, keeping the present behind his back in case he was peeking.

"I told you not to."

"It's fine. I had a bit of money to spare." Gently taking one of Gerard's hands, he guided him to his feet.

"Are you sure? Completely sure? I'm not worth-"

Raising his eyebrows, Frank pressed a finger to Gerard's lips. "Stop right there, Mr Way."

Gerard frowned.

"Quit worrying." A deep breath. "Now, you said you didn't have one, and. . ." He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I saw how much you liked it when I saw you with one."

Mainly excited, he remained silent, though somewhat puzzled.

"Open your eyes."

Slowly, Gerard opened one eye at a time to reveal Frank smiling shyly, heart pounding at the anxiety that came with gift-giving. What if he didn't like or want it?

"Oh my God."

Frank was holding the most beautiful, vintage acoustic Gerard had ever seen. It was a lovely dark wood, sanded and carved perfectly. Carefully, Gerard took it, examining it with wide curious eyes.

"Do you like it?"

"I-" He was basically speechless, so he nodded frantically instead, grinning. "How-I-don't-"

Clasping his hands behind his back, Frank just giggled at how adorable he was being.

"I just-how-?" He pulled him in to a bone crushing hug, to which Frank almost swore he might kiss him. But nope. Anyway, it didn't really matter. They were both content wrapped in each other's arms.

-

Frank had been teaching Gerard guitar when his parent's arrived home unexpectedly. He was sat on the sofa legs either side of Gerard, who was sat on the floor, attempting to get his fingers to twist in to awkward positions for a chord. (Plus, they'd ordered pizza for dinner, courtesy of Gerard, who'd remembered to order pineapple on half of it.)

First, they heard the unmistakable sound of a key being shoved in to the lock, then they had seconds as his parents stepped through the door.

They both leaped to their feet, Frank dancing nervously on the spot. "Shit, shit, shit." His eyes darted around the room in panic, searching, then he hauled Gerard's satchel and jacket behind the sofa. "Hide."

"Are you serious?" He laughed, a little scared by Frank's behaviour, realising his parents knew he was Mr Way from that evening at the school.

"Yes!"

The moment his parents came in to the living room, Frank spotted red hair disappear behind the sofa. "Hi mum, dad." To distract them, he hurried over to fetch their bags, leading them in to the kitchen.

"Who have you got over?" His mother asked, shrugging off her coat.

"No-no one." Frank gulped audibly.

"Yes you do, you've got two plates out." His father annoyingly pointed out.

"Uhm, yeah, well," Frank busied himself by sorting the food from the shopping bags. "Brendon was over. He left about an hour ago."

Thankfully, they retreated to their office, leaving the boys alone. They'd all spent over half an hour talking and Frank hoped Gerard wasn't getting restless or bored squished between the furniture and the wall.

"Hey." He leaned over the back of the couch, tapping Gerard's shoulder, startling him in the process. "Come on."

"What?" He furrowed his brows, but got no answer. Silently, he followed him upstairs after snatching up all of his things. Luckily, there'd be no trace of him.

"What now?" Gerard questioned once they were hidden safely in Frank's bedroom.

"I have no idea. Turn invisible?"

Raising an eyebrow, he put his hands on his hips. "I left my invisibility cloak at home with my pet dragon, sorry." A frown tugging at his lips, he received a deadpan glare. "Really, though, what shall I do? Should I leave?"

Please don't, Frank thought instantly. "They'll hear you."

"Oh," he glanced out the window. It was still pouring it down anyway. Having never been in Frank's room, he glanced around, catching sight of a few million comic books scattered on the desk. "I love comics!"

"Me too." Frank wanted to hit himself for saying that. "Obviously."

For a long time, they chatted about Dark Horse comics. Well, Gerard did as Frank watched, a smile on his face. While he spoke, Frank noticed, to talk he used wide hand gestures a lot, as if he had to keep them moving to get across what he meant.

Eventually, Gerard's rambling trailed off, and he laughed anxiously, "I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

"No." Frank could honestly listen to the sound of his voice all day. He was itching for the day to arrive where he could hear him sing again.

They'd lost track of time, their conversation lasting deep in to the night. Which meant, like she always did, Frank's mother came upstairs to say goodnight, and Frank had forgotten about that fact. It was only as her footsteps creaked up the stairs, he remembered.

"Quick!" He whispered, ushering Gerard under the bed. Obvious hiding place, though it did the trick.

She knocked, poking her head in. "Me and your father are going to bed now. We're getting up early for work, so I'll wake you up for school."

School. Shit. "Uhm, okay." He managed a weak smile.

"Try to get some sleep, you have enough late nights as it is."

"Goodnight, mum."

"Goodnight, honey. See you in the morning." She shut the door, dragging some of the panic out of Frank's mind.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Frank knelt down to peer under the bed frame. Gerard was lying on his side, red hair falling over his face, and it was dark, but Frank could still see his pale skin because he was basically paper white. "Comfy?"

Gerard chuckled. "I've had worse."

"Come on." Rolling his eyes, he offered his hand, helping him slide out. Gerard stumbled a little, so Frank put an arm around his waist to steady him.

"That was. . . Fun." Gerard giggled. "Never hidden from anyone's parents before -speaking as a grown up."

Not knowing quite what to say, he just smiled. That giggle was adorable, matching Gerard's personality –well, one of the levels of his personality. Without even realizing he spoke aloud, Frank murmured, "You're so pretty."

An unreadable expression washed over Gerard's features, though he moved further in to his arms. Soon, they were stood too close. Too close for Frank not to take a chance. Technically, until Friday, Gerard was his teacher, but a voice screamed at the back of his mind: fuck it.

"Frank?" Gerard was a bit puzzled.

Eventually, Frank leaned in all the way, daring to press their lips together. In surprise, Gerard gasped, a little tense, but relaxed immediately, putting a hand to the back of Frank's neck. Even though he initiated it first, Frank still melted, almost going limp because it was incredibly surreal.

We're kissing. He's kissing me back. He thought delightedly. We're actually kissing somewhere that isn't inside of my mind. . . We're making out. 

If Gerard hadn't pulled back, Frank would have completely forgotten to breathe. Plus, he was grinning like an absolute idiot, probably edging towards the word 'maniac'. It wasn't his fault Gerard made him insanely happy.

"You kissed me." Gerard whispered, unable to tear his gaze away from his warm hazel eyes. If he did, he'd think about the fact he had a boyfriend at home.

"You don't want me to?"

"No." Briefly spiking fear in to his chest, Gerard shook his head. "I need you to." He almost growled, roughly crashing their lips together, both his hands sliding around Frank's waist to press his body against his.

Slowly, the hand that Frank had rested on Gerard's hip travelled under the hoodie he'd lent him. Even now, Gerard felt cold, while Frank was practically on fire.

Reluctantly, Frank pulled away, gaze fixed on Gerard's partially swollen lips. Steadily, they sank back on the bed. Gerard's hair splayed out like a crimson halo as he dropped down, Frank taking the advantage by straddling his waist.

Gerard's stunned yet smirking expression was getting him way more hot and bothered than he'd care to admit, and he wasted no time in capturing Gerard's mouth again. This time, his hand ended up tangled in Gerard's hair, so he tugged on it, earning some sort of purr from the back of Gerard's throat that Frank really wanted to hear a thousand times more.

"You're in to that." He smirked, and Gerard narrowed his eyes at him somewhat. To test it, he pulled on his hair a second time, causing Gerard's jaw to go slack as he lifted his hips up off the bed slightly.

"Now, that, that was hot."

Gerard laughed quietly, "I thought you wanted to bite me."

Frank's eyebrows shot off his head. "E-excuse me?"

"Oh, come on, Dracula." Frank's face reddened because it may or may not have been a tiny bit true. "It was obvious! You're secretly a kinky little shit."

"Oh, yeah?" Frank retorted, proving his point that Gerard was too, to put it in his words, a kinky little shit, pulled on his hair, causing Gerard to moan quite loudly, so Frank slapped a hand over his mouth. "Shh! Parents."

Gerard gave him an unimpressed look, "Why'd you do it, then?"

"To prove a point?"

"Is that all?" He sat up straight, their faces were inches apart, and gently took Frank's bottom lip between his teeth, earning a small whimper in return.

"Fuck you." Frank mumbled, placing a hand on his chest, forcing him back against the mattress. Usually, he was pretty quiet, allowed himself to be bossed around by other people, faded in to the shadows, however, currently, he didn't mind the least bit being in charge of Gerard.

Taking a deep breath, he lowered himself so he was almost lying on top of Gerard, nibbling at his ear lobe. Feeling Gerard shiver underneath him, he moved to kiss his neck as he gripped Gerard's hands and pinned them above his head.

"You know," Gerard breathed, "If you want me to continue being silent, you should probably-" he cut himself off, unable to stop himself from letting out a deep moan because Frank was gently biting at his neck just the right way.

"Not do that?" Frank finished the sentence for him, smirking like a sly Cheshire cat.

"I wonder what your parents are thinking you're doing." He snickered.

"I don't." Frank cheeks flushed pink. "I hope they're asleep."

"Does this mean we have to stop?"

"Because my parents are here?" Frank sighed heavily, grudgingly crawling off of Gerard to lie beside him. "I wish it didn't, but if you're gonna be loud, I guess so."

"I could be quiet."

"Could you?"

Defeated, he huffed, folding his arms across his chest. "Whatever."

"I never pegged you as someone who was loud." He muttered, mostly to himself because he supposed it was a weird conversation to have.

"Ha." Gerard chuckled, cheeks tinted red. "Are we actually going to talk about stuff like that?"

"Uhm," Frank blushed, "Not yet."

-

Gerard had fallen asleep first, cuddled up next to Frank, who had his arms wrapped around him, nose buried in his glorious crimson hair. Having fallen asleep last, Frank had surprisingly woken up before Gerard, who was snoring lightly beside him.

Later, he realised he'd woken up because he'd heard his parents moving around downstairs. He slowed his breathing to try to hear whereabouts they were. Turned out, his mother was heading up to his bedroom.

"Shit. Fuck." He cursed. Gerard was asleep and he didn't have the heart to wake him up.

"Frank?" She knocked on the door. "Are you awake?"

Holding his breath, he didn't reply, hoping she'd go away. He glanced down at Gerard, who appeared to be conscious now, tightening his grip around Frank's waist and nuzzling in to his side. Frank fought the urge to laugh because it tickled.

Instead of leaving them in peace, she went to open the door.

"Yes!" Frank squeaked. "I'm getting dressed, not decent!"

Thankfully, the door closed. "I came to tell you that me and your father are going now. We'll see you in a few weeks. There's money on the counter for dinners."

"Right, okay." He let out a sigh of relief.

"We love you."

"Love you. Bye."

Rubbing his eyes, Gerard sat up, shuffling off the bed. Albeit reluctantly because he loved lying next to Frank. "I-I should get going."

"Really?" Frank frowned, reaching out for his arm and taking his hand.

Smiling weakly, he stared at their hands. "School, you know? We have to get ready and stuff. And. . . Bert."

"Bert." Frank clarified, eyes widening. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay." He bent over, kissing Frank softly on the nose, making him smile even more. "It was both of us. I kissed you back, remember?"

"I remember." He grinned lazily, honestly still half asleep.

"I just need to get things sorted, but I'll see you at school, yeah?"

"Do you want a coffee before you go?" He yawned, sliding off the bed.

"No, thank you."

"You're saying no to coffee?" Frank scoffed, receiving a deadpan glare. "How will you function?"

"I'll have to suffer through the day." Gerard muttered. "But I'll see you later."

[Published 23 January 2020]p>


End file.
